


The Exultant Sound Of A Canon Booming In The Night

by sandean_cas



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Balthazar & Castiel Friendship (Supernatural), Benny Lafitte & Dean Winchester Friendship, Castiel Being Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel Can Hear Longing (Supernatural), Castiel Can't Cook (Supernatural), Castiel Comforts Dean Winchester, Castiel Cooks (Supernatural), Castiel Does Not Get The References (Supernatural), Castiel Does Not Understand (Supernatural), Castiel Drives the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel Fixes Things (Supernatural), Castiel Has Feelings for Dean Winchester, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel Learns to Drive a Car (Supernatural), Castiel Learns to be Human (Supernatural), Castiel Leaves (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Burgers (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Humanity (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Peanut Butter and Jelly (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Mistakes (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Pie (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Pie For Dean Winchester, Castiel Makes a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Castiel Misses Dean Winchester, Castiel Needs Dean Winchester, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Castiel Wants Dean Winchester to be Happy, Castiel Watches Over Dean Winchester, Castiel Watches Porn (Supernatural), Castiel Wears Dean Winchester's Clothes, Castiel Wears Panties (Supernatural), Castiel Whump (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Fight, Castiel and Dean Winchester Get Married, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel is Bad at Feelings (Supernatural), Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Amused (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Oblivious (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Okay (Supernatural), Castiel is So Done (Supernatural), Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel's Tan Trenchcoat (Supernatural), Castiel's Tie (Supernatural), Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Coda, Crack, Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Crowley's Eyes (Good Omens), Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Crowley's Sunglasses (Good Omens), Dean Winchester Can't Say "I Love You", Dean Winchester Cooks, Dean Winchester Deserves Better, Dean Winchester Deserves Nice Things, Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester Has a Fear of Flying, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Misses Castiel, Dean Winchester Misses Mary Winchester, Dean Winchester Thinks Castiel is Dead, Dean Winchester Wears Castiel's Trenchcoat, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean/Castiel Ever After Challenge (Supernatural), Djinn Castiel (Supernatural), Djinni & Genies, Djinnverse (Supernatural), Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture - Bunker Breakup Scene, Episode: s15e06 Golden Time, Episode: s15e07 Last Call, Episode: s15e08 Our Father Who Aren't In Heaven, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Insecure Michael, M/M, Meta, Metafiction, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Michael Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Michael is So Done (Supernatural), Multiple Universes Colliding, Multiverse, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Pining, Protective Dean Winchester, Quote: Can I Hear a Wahoo? (Good Omens), Quote: We're On Our Own Side (Good Omens), Quote: You can stay at my place (Good Omens), Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Season/Series 15, The Impala (Supernatural), The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Time Travel Fix-It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 33,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandean_cas/pseuds/sandean_cas
Summary: Their final moments are upon them. They’ve played their final card and Chuck is announcing curtain call. But Dean still has a few seconds left. A few seconds to right the only wrong he’s ever truly regretted.So Dean will do the only thing he can do. His one final move in the famous final scene of Chuck’s shitty story. Something that Chuck believed completely unfathomable. Something, that, throughout all the universes, he’d never seen – not once.Dean is about to answer a question that Cass should have never even needed to ask.And maybe – maybe – one last ditch effort in a world gone mad is enough to turn the tides just enough so they might hear what ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really means.ORInstead of sending them to Purgatory, Michael traverses all the universes with Dean and Castiel in the hopes of finding one where good prevailed and Chuck was defeated. Along the way Dean and Castiel's relationship is put under strain.Will Michael play mediator?Will the alternate versions of Dean, Sam and Castiel force them to face their decisions and mend their relationship?What ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really mean?
Relationships: Aziraphale (Good Omens) & Castiel (Supernatural), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Cassie Robinson/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Crowley (Good Omens) & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 140
Kudos: 345





	1. The Tragedy of Coherance

**Author's Note:**

> This diverges from canon after 15.08.
> 
> This is basically how I want DeanCas to go canon...

Their final moments are upon them. They’ve played their final card and Chuck is announcing curtain call. But Dean still has a few seconds left. A few seconds to right the only wrong he’s ever truly regretted.

He turns to Cass a teary smile on his face, he can see the angel’s mind trying to churn out a solution. He stayed by their side through thick and thin and now there would be no more. Throughout his life, Dean managed to weasel his way out of many jams, but an apocalypse year in and year out has taken its toll. Dean is tired. He knows he should be following Cass’ lead. To find a way out. Glancing to his other side, he can see the look of determination on Sam’s face. If anyone deserves to make it out alive, it would be Sam. He’s the only one of them who has a chance at normal. But Chuck won’t let that happen.

So Dean will do the only thing he can do. His one final move in the famous final scene of Chuck’s shitty story. Something that Chuck believed completely unfathomable; especially in regards to a character who should have been written out years ago. Something, that, throughout all the universes, he’d never seen – not once.

Dean is about to answer a question that Cass should have never even needed to ask.

And maybe – maybe – one last ditch effort in a world gone mad is enough to turn the tides just enough so they might hear what ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really means.

Ten Days Earlier And Many Universes Away

The plan is simple. Michael will take them on a tour of the multi-verses. Just because Chuck says something is true, doesn’t mean that it is. There must be one place. One universe where the good guys smelt the crap spewing from Chuck’s mouth and rebelled successfully.

The first world Michael takes them to, they were never born. The apocalypse is in full swing, with Chuck manning the tanker at the head of the charge. Next is a world where Sam and Dean both said yes and the prize fight had been years ago. Everyone knows about the things that go bump in the night and they all tried to kill them.

The next earth is quieter. They find a version of Sam and Dean who have retired and rest peacefully at a small fishing cabin. Dean sees the framed pictures on the wall. Of him. Of Sam. Even some of Castiel. But the angel is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Cass?” he asks.

Silence follows then.

“He left.” Says the other Sam, throwing a forlorn glance at his brother. “Went back to Heaven before the gates closed.”

Dean throws a glance at his own Cass. “That’s to be expected.”

Sam gives a minute shake of his head before Michael whisks them off again.

This time, they find a version of Cass alone in an empty grave yard. He stands stiffly before a tombstone, his trench-coat billowing and blocking the writing. Michael coughs and Castiel jumps back to stare at them in shock.

“Dean.” He breathes, staring as though seeing a ghost.

“Hey man.” Dean gives a flimsy wave.

Castiel seems to snap out of his trance then and pitches forward, fling his arms around Dean. He finds himself pinned to Castiel’s shoulder as the angel squeezes the life from him. Now that the way is clear though, Dean gets a good look at the tomb stone.

**Dean Winchester**

**Brother, Friend, Guardian**

**Deceased: 16 th January 2023**

“Dean. Dean.” This Castiel’s tearful pleas break him from his trance. “I missed you. I – I’m so sorry I couldn’t – I couldn’t save you. Dean I’m s-sorry. Dean-” he breaks off, sobbing into Dean’s coat. His grief is so profound that it seeps into Dean and he feels tears of his own gathering as Castiel clutches him tightly. He feels like the most wretched son of a bitch to have ever lived. Because he’s about to plunge the angel back into despair. To tell him that Dean isn’t the Dean he knows. That they have to leave.

“Cass.” He says gently. The angel pulls back to look at him, still clutching Dean’s sleeve. Dean freezes then. How can he do this? The sheer emotions on Castiel’s face: relief, fatigue, guilt, sadness. “I-”

“This isn’t the Dean you know.” His Cass’ voice is gentle but firm yet it makes his counterpart’s face fall instantly.

He pulls away from Dean, stricken, and glances back at the grave, a fresh set of tears spilling from his eyes.

“Cass. I’m sorry.” Dean offers gently. “I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was.” He says, haunted. “I drove him away. I told him-” he breaks off, breathing harshly, his eyes are locked onto their Cass. “Well, you know what.”

Dean is lost. But now isn’t the time for explanations. “How is Sam taking it?”

He stiffens against Dean, his body rigid with a roiling anger. “He’s the one who killed you.” Castiel growls. “When I left. He caught you alone. He murdered you.”

“No!” he yells. “No. Sam would never do that.”

Castiel seems to compose himself then. “Maybe not your Sam. But here… Sam … Sam was driven mad by Lucifer’s possession. He kept begging you to free Michael. To fight even though we destroyed Lucifer. When you refused, he became violent. We fought him off but you couldn’t harm him; he was your brother.” he looks Dean in the eye. “I suspect. Once I left, you… had a moment of doubt. And _he_ killed you for it.”

Dean glances back helplessly. It wasn’t Sam’s fault he was driven mad. But that isn’t what Castiel needs to hear.

“I’m sorry about your Dean.” He says gently. “But it wasn’t your fault. I know me. It was only a matter of time before I tried to save Sam.”

“I know.” He whispers. “I just wish I had-”

“What?”

“There were things left unsaid between us.” He murmurs. “And Heaven is closed and all my allies are dead. No demon will even take my deal and I have nothing left here. But Death will never come to be.”

Heart constricting, he rests a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “We can’t stay here long.” he says gently. “But… maybe… you can tell me. The things you left unsaid.”

Castiel’s eyes flash to Cass and Dean sees some form of silent communication pass between them. “Some things… aren’t for you to hear from me.” he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around Dean, cradling his head to his shoulder. “But I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry that you suffered but I hope that – that the time we did spend together wasn’t completely horrible for you.”

Squeezing back, Dean sighs, speaking softly. “If you’re anything like my Cass… you were always my big win.” He doesn’t say that he felt like crap every time Cass disappeared without a trace, never calling or checking in or about the countless screw-ups that could have been avoided had he only trusted Dean. Castiel doesn’t need to hear that.

“At least I get a good-bye this time.” Castiel pulls away slightly and gives him the tiniest smile. “Good-bye Dean.” He presses a swift kiss to Dean’s cheek.

“Good-bye Cass.”

҈ §§§ȸ§§§ ҈҉


	2. The Naivety of Hope

**The Naivety of Hope**

Dean feels his insides ripple as Michael once more transports them to another universe. Here he finds Sam, alone, a pot-belly and a sea of empty beer bottles. He glances at Michael in shock. He shrugs.

The other Sam’s eyes widen as he spots them but he doesn’t move for the gun that rests a mere foot away. “Time travel?” he wonders.

“Universe hopping.” Dean replies.

“Swell. What do you need me for.”

“Where is Dean?” Cass wonders.

“Dead.”

Recoiling, Cass backs into Michael who rolls his eyes, “You’d think after the first few time you get accustomed.” Cass scowls.

“You too Cass.” Sam slurs. “Dead as dead can be.”

“How?” Dean wonders, staring down in disgust at the clutter. Dean’s too shell-shocked to comment on the lack of lettuce.

“So get this.” Alternate Sam says, “Dean over there, got all hopped up on the Mark of Cain, he scalped Cass in the library then, when he saw what he’d done, he scoured the earth for the Colt and gave himself a round to the brain. Which, y’know, released the darkness. So she and Chuck are battling it out. If you stick around long enough, this place just might explode.”

“This isn’t the place we seek.” Announces Michael.

“No shit.” Mutters Dean. This version of Sam irks him.

Michael closes his eyes.

Whoosh!

Dean’s stomach heaves and he stumbles off to the side to throw up. Bile crawls up his throat leaving his mouth with an acid taste.

“Are you okay?” Cass asks, hovering about him.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Dean sighs. They still aren’t on the greatest terms. Both of them have reasons to be angry – justified reasons. And neither of them are willing to sit down and talk it out. Rowena’s speech about ‘fixing it’ had made everything sound so easy. But when they got back to the bunker it was back to the old grind of only speaking when necessary and standing on opposite sides of the room.

Even now , if Sam were here he would be acting as a buffer between them after Michael got tired of their arguing.

This new world, though, it looks promising. There are literally some daises on the side of the road. It’s the apple pie life Dean always wanted. White-picket fence and all. The approach the small house as a group and Dean is pretty sure they look like criminals on the prowl. On the way in his eye catches the mail-box, printed in clear letters are two names: **Dean & Cass**

Tripping, he falls flat on his face in the grass. “What the hell?” he demands, turning to Michael who seems irritated more than with him.

Cass doesn’t seem perturbed, he just fingers the painted letters as if he were caressing the angel tablet. Dean screws his face up in disgust.

“Why do you and I have a mail box.”

“Well.” Castiel says slowly. “Traditionally people who live together, share mailing addresses and thus a mail box.”

“Yeah but you and I don’t live together.”

“Well…” Michael interjects. Dean gapes at him in horror. He can’t be in on this bullshit too.

“Cass and I aren’t together.” He says firmly.

…

Castiel tries to hide his hurt at Dean’s adamant protests that they aren’t together; could never be a couple. It hurts him and Dean doesn’t even seem to realise. Just as he hadn’t realised what the Castiel who lost his Dean had been trying to say. Castiel could see the ‘I love you’ on the tip of his tongue. Only his petrified look had stopped his alternate self from ruining beyond repair the shambles of their paper thin bond.

It hurts him when Dean treats him like this sure, but it’s incomparable to how he would feel if Dean rejects him.

Scowling, Dean marches up the path way, kicking and shattering a potted plant on the way though. Michael barely gives it a glance before carrying on. He still isn’t sure how he feels about Michael. His brother is different than he remembers. Less stoic and haughty, more relaxed. And for a person who just escaped the cage, that bothers him. Michael would never allow his host reign over the body, even for such short times. And though Dean doesn’t like to hear it, his brother, Adam has no reason to like them at all.

But they need them. Castiel’s powers are too drained to sustain such large and sudden jumps. The frequency alone would have killed him.

So once again, he has to suck up his discomfort and work with another creature he doesn’t trust.

What makes him suspicious, is that Michael has restricted them from speaking with Adam for the duration of his trip under the guise that it would endanger them. A flimsy excuse, if you ask him, but, of course, Dean hadn’t asked him.

Dean pounds on the door until they hear footsteps approaching.

Castiel sees Dean at the door. In this universe he looks unbelievably happy. And a light smile touches his lips. At least in one universe, Dean can be this happy with him. He wears a full beard and a shirt and trousers much like the one Castiel’s, though his tie has a bit more flare; it’s pink, grey and white striped. Something this Dean would never be caught dead in.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean demands causing the other Dean to back away.

“Why are you here?” he hisses.

“Why are you here?” Dean counters. Castiel sighs, this could go on for a while.

His sigh draws the other Dean’s attention. His eyes blow wide open and he shoves Dean out of the way and rushes over to embrace him. “Cass.” He breathes, one hand coming to rest on Castiel’s neck. “Castiel.” He breathes harshly. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“We’re not from this universe.” He says carefully, hating it as Dean’s face falls. “We are here to determine the state of things. Where is Sam.”

“He –” Dean glances back at the door, licking his lips. “He’s at Stanford.”

“With Jess?” Dean asks, almost hopefully.

Other Dean shakes his head. “With Eileen.”

Dean nods, smiling slightly, “That’s good. He deserves it. Uh, man, I gotta ask… why are living here with Cass?”

“I thought you would understand more than anyone.” The other Dean replies, bewildered. “I love her.”

“Her?” Dean’s voice is shrill as his eyes whip to Castiel. “This world you is in a chick.”

Scowling, he doesn’t dignify that with a reply.

“Shit.” Alternate Dean presses his head against the door frame as a female figure comes into view.

She looks at the scene on the porch and stops in her tracks, her eyes darting between the two Deans. “Babe, let me sort this out okay?”

“Hold up.” Dean raises a hand. “That’s Cassie.”

Cassie Robinson.

Castiel knows her well. Mostly as Dean’s first love. The joy he’d been feeling evaporates and his shoulders slouch. He should have known better than to hope, that in any universe, Dean would see him as he wants him to.

“Where is this world’s Castiel?” he asks, almost dreading the answer. It seems that morbidity follows him across the universe.

The other Dean’s eyes flicker with sadness, grief. “Last I checked… he’s God.”

“Then how are you living here in peace?” Dean demands. “When he went all celestial it, he made his presence known.” He gestures at Castiel.

Shame floods through him. Absorbing all that power and being corrupted was probably his biggest failing. He’d betrayed Dean’s trust for the first time back then when Dean had been the only one not willing to impugn his intentions.

Alternate Dean glances away. “We have an agreement.”

“Oh and what’s that?” Dean barks. “You suck his dick on weekends?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“The hell you can’t.”

“Dean.” Castiel says in warning. They’re wasting time. They don’t need to know the details of this deal; he knows for a fact that Chuck will never listen to a word they have to say, much less a deal.

Ignoring him, Dean steps closer to his alternate self, crowding him in the hopes of intimidating him.

Alternate Dean just shakes his head. “If I tell you… I risk angering him.”

Dean fumes, turning away and marching back down the path, “We’re done here.” He calls over his shoulder.

Castiel turns to this Dean, noting the longing on his face. He knows that Dean cared about him and he knows how conflicted he was when it came to trying to stop him. Had it been anyone else, he doubts that Dean would have let them run wild. Chuck is a prime example of that.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way.” He says quietly.

Dean seems torn, his mouth opening and closing. “How did Dean bring you back from the edge.”

“Things – things got bad. And I knew he was the only one I could talk to. I came to him and he helped me.”

The tension is thick between them. He can feel Dean’s indecision and his fear, it calls to him like his Dean’s had.

After a moment, Dean lips begin to move silently, forming three words. ‘That’s our deal.’

With that he turns and walks back inside and Castiel heads back to meet Dean. Michael touches his shoulder as they near the mail box. He doesn’t say a word, he only gestures to the names on the box, and the slightly faded ‘ie’ at the end of Cass. Castiel had only seen what he wanted to.

҈ §§§ȸ§§§ ҈҉

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure Castiel only saw what he wanted to. But you know what? So did Dean. 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying this! <3


	3. The Fallacies That Haunt Us

**The Haunting Fallacies**

Michael’s jump is just as sudden as always; no regard to the fact that Dean just threw up his liver in ‘Dean and Cass land.’ Of course, Cass had turned out to be Cassie, but wow, the shock had almost killed him. He thought that maybe this trip could give him and Cass some time to mend their wounds and find each other again. But seeing their greatest hits plastered across each time line only reminds him of their countless mistakes.

The sun is shining brightly in this world. Dean squints at it but Michael and Cass seem relatively unfazed.

That’s another thing he’s got to worry about… Michael.

Adam is his brother, he trust his judgement, but Michael… the Michael he knows is an expert on tricking people. And by the way this Michael is acting, Dean has no doubt he’s hiding something. Could he be working with Chuck? Biding his time?

He glances at Cass, who also eyes Michael warily. He knows that Cass is on edge about this whole thing too. But there’s no chance to discuss anything. Not with Michael stuck to them like glue. And sure, Dean is angry with Cass – so angry – but he still trusts his judgement, as stupid as that may seem.

“Michael.” Cass calls. “Is there no way for you to filter the worlds?”

“No Castiel.” Michael replies, “It’s taxing to even make this many jumps, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Cass nods, glancing away. Dean fiddles with his shirt, not sure what to say.

“Look.” Cass points straight ahead and is already marching away.

Past a bushel of trees is a clearing and Dean can just make out the slight shimmering of water beyond it.

He dashes after Castiel, only to find Michael already there watching a long figure on the docks. It’s him. Well, another him. This will never stop being freaky.

He’s sitting at the edge of the dock, fishing. Just like his dream he realises – the one from all those years ago when Cass came to him. By the look on Cass’ face, he remembers this too.

“I don’t think that this is the right place.” Dean says, breaking the silence.

“How can you know that?” Michael wonders, looking displeased by his suggestion.

“Just…” Dean trails off, unsure himself. “Something doesn’t feel right here.”

“How can you know that?” Michael parrots.

Clenching his jaw, he turns away from the angel and back to the other Dean, casually fishing on the dock. Dean feels almost guilty for interrupting what must be his one moment of peace. The guilt evaporates though, as he sees the sun gleam off a fishing hook. A fishing hook that floats in mid-air.

“Dean!” Cass gets there first, tackling other Dean and sending them both catapulting into the lake.

The hook drops suddenly but Dean is still on guard.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees other Dean, laughing and splashing Cass, clearly not noticing the two other people on his dock. At least, Dean isn’t that oblivious.

“Ahem!” he coughs.

Dean’s face drops as he notices the other two of them standing there. He glances back to Cass with a tiny smile. “You’re not my Cass, are you?”

“No.”

When all parties are on dry land, Dean retrieves the hook and shows it to his other self. “A ghost is haunting you.”

“I know.”

“You know?” Dean barks. Why hadn’t he put up a salt circle or – or _not gone fishing?_ “What does that mean?”

“That I know the ghost.”

“Oh, so I’m making friends with ghosts now.” Dean throws his hands up.

“It’s Cass.”

Even Michael raises a brow at that.

“He was human… when he died.” Alternate Dean responds, picking up on their confusion. “So when he died, he started haunting me. Most times he struggles to maintain a corporeal form but he sometimes he can. Like just now. He was handing me that hook.”

…

Castiel grinds his teeth together. Why is it, that in every possible world, him and Dean are estranged beyond repair or dead?

“Ghosts always go dark side.” His Dean says, though his voice isn’t as harsh. “Are you sure that this is what’s best for Cass?”

The other Dean glances between them, all his previous happiness wiped away, he leans on the fishing rod as though it’s the only think holding him up. “I know it isn’t. But we – we’re handling it?”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “How?”

“What are you doing here?” The other Dean asks, eager to switch topics.

“We’re here to save the world.” Dean says drily. “What else?”

Alternate Dean’s face hardens then. “I hope you’re not endangering us by being here.”

“So what if we are?” he demands.

Castiel tunes them out, knowing just how well Dean can fight with himself. He steps away from their bickering and notices the figure fizzling in and out by the tree line. It’s him.

“Hello.” He says tentatively, watching as his from comes more and more into view.

In the same tone, other Castiel replies,. “Hello.”

He gestures back to the dock. “I see our Deans are getting at it.”

The other Castiel chuckles. “You think they might have make-up sex afterwards?”

Castiel stares appalled at the casual cheek of his comment. “How can you be so happy when you’re dead?” he says carefully.

“Dean makes me happy.” He states simply, not noticing that his left hand is fizzling in and out of existence. “You know this.”

“Of course.” He murmurs, unthinkingly. “But how can you be so brazen about – about –”

“Sex?” the other Castiel supplies, wiggling his eyebrows like Dean usually does. “Well, after Dean threw me out of the bunker, I was on my own for all of thirty minutes before he pulled up in the Impala and explained everything. Sam… Sam didn’t make it; closed the gates of hell and Dean was lost. I couldn’t leave him.”

“So how did you die?” he asks, wondering if he’s infringing on some sort of personal space.

His other self just barks out a laugh. “Wow! I really don’t have any tack.”

Castiel cocks his head. “Are you insulting me – and by extension yourself.”

He just shrugs, nonchalant. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

…

Michael seems reluctant to leave this world, neither Dean nor Castiel can really figure out why. But, on the plus side, it gives them a chance to talk.

“So, Mikey?” Dean says eloquently.

“I agree.” Cass says, picking up his intent immediately. “But what choice do we have Dean?”

Sighing, Dean shakes his head. How do they always get into these situations.

“Michael seems to think that there’s something useful here though.”

“Then we have to investigate.” Cass says decisively. “I will talk to myself and you to Dean. Try not to kill him.”

“Right. Good.” Dean says to Cass’ back as he marches away.

He finds Dean sitting watching T.V on a ratty old couch.

“Look man, the sooner you tell us what’s what, the sooner we’re out of you and ghost Cass’ hair.” The wry expression on the other man’s face has him rolling his eyes.

He perches on the handle, noting the differences between himself and this Dean. Like his moustache, which, wow, looks pretty suave and the extra weight around his hips. And despite it all, Dean is jealous. That this universe has a version of him that’s allowed to sip margaritas and fish on whim. Dean knows that this life isn’t in the cards for him, but he just wants to know what decisions he can make to get even the tiniest bit closer to it.

“Chuck is throwing a tantrum.”

The darkening of the other man’s eyes is what tells him he’s poking in the right spot. Maybe Michael does know his stuff after all.

“And I take it you have some experience with that here.”

The other Dean’s expression is guarded. “I do.”

“Then tell me.” Dean begs, leaning in, “Cause, I have no clue how to fight him. He obviously left this world in peace a-”

A laugh stops him in his tracks.

“Peace?” the alternate Dean spits. “This is what you call peace? Sitting in a house with the ghost of my best friend. Knowing that one day he’ll turn vengeful and I – _I might have to kill him._ ”

Dean winces in sympathy. “It’s a hell of a lot better than what we’ve got in my world.”

“You have Cass.” He returns bitterly. “You have Sam.”

“Just tell me what you did. We _have_ to stop Chuck; not matter the cost.”

“Do you know what my plan is?” The other Dean murmurs, hauntingly. “Cass is tethered to me. So when he feels himself slipping away… I’m putting a bullet in my brain and blasting us into oblivion.”

Skin crawling, Dean turns away, pushing aside that imagery.

“What did you do?” he parrots.

“Chuck – Chuck was livid.” He breathes, staring down at his hands. “That Sam had died and that I wasn’t the one to kill him.” Dean gulps. “And I had a plan. A _perfect_ plan. We were all supposed to make it out.”

“Tell me the plan.” Dean says, his voice filled with urgency. He can almost taste freedom.

“Cass dies.” The other Dean says, staring at him, unwavering.

Dean feels his hope shrivel up and die.

The other Dean lays a hand on his shoulder. “Well, now that you know the risks and that the plan worked… let me tell y-”

He shoves the hand away, rubbing at his shoulder. “No!” he blurts. “You don’t have a plan.”

“But-”

“No.” he repeats firmly. “You don’t have plan. You can’t help us.”

His heart is pounding as he stumbles away, he knows how irrational he’s being; what he’s giving up. Maybe they could have fixed the plan, or maybe not. And Dean can’t take that risk, he doesn’t fully understand why. But whatever the reason may be… Dean just knows that he _can’t._

҈ §§§ȸ§§§ ҈҉


	4. Tantamount to Pie

This world reminds him of the last. Quiet and peaceful, with a deadly undertone and…

The smell of pie?

Dean sniffs twice more, just to confirm. He nods to himself, definitely pie.

It washes off some of the dysmorphia he feels from the last place.

What Dean needs to purge the memory of – the things that happened there – is pie.

“Mikey.” He whisper shouts. “I’m calling a pie-t-stop.”

“Why are you so chipper when all we’ve found is nothing?” Michael asks, standing stiffly by them.

Expression crumbling, Dean glances away, focusing on just _forgetting_. If he can’t remember it then it isn’t real.

“Hey!” he shouts, as metal gleams in the distance. “That’s Baby.”

“I don’t see a child.” Michael says.

Rolling his eyes, Dean waves them over, pointing at the Impala. “My baby.” He corrects.

Cass presses his lips together.

The little shack they approach is pretty nice. It’s got warding all around, some, Dean can’t even recognise. And it isn’t just haphazardly painted on, someone took their time and crafted this to look aesthetic. Maybe him and Sam live here, that’s why the smell of pie is everywhere.

Gagging, Dean’s nose tries to reject this new smell. It’s putrid. Stark contrast to the hot, steaming pie on the window sill. It’s baked, golden to perfection and sits cooling on the ledge. Dean watches in horror as the pie is shoved off the sill and falls into a pile of other pies… rotting pies, that must be giving off the smell.

“Ugh.” He says looking away. Instantly knowing that _Dean_ isn’t living here. “Hey there!” Dean calls. “Butcher, baker, candlestick maker?”

“Hello Dean.”

“Cass!” Dean gapes in shock at the angel before him. He’s still wearing his coat and suit, but now, a red and white apron with cherries is on top and he waves a spoon covered in pie filling around like a knife.

“Try me pie!” Dean splutters as the spoon is shoved in his mouth.

His eyebrows raise. “Yum. Man.” He glances at his Cass. “You’re holding out of me.”

“Oh no.” Alternate Castiel squishes his cheeks together, tilting his face left and right to inspect him. “No. No. I tried this like – thousands of times. But you like it right? Tell me you like it Dean!”

“Woah.” He backs away, “Y-yes.” Sure the pie tastes good, but he’d be scared to say no even if it tasted like shit.

“Why do you have the Impala?” his Cass asks.

“Who else would take care of her?” his eyes are trained on Dean. “I wax her just like you taught me. I don’t ride the brakes. Or wrench the steering wheel when I take a sharp corner.”

His heart breaks for this Castiel, who looks so alone in this house that looks like it was his home.

“I’m glad Cass.” He pauses. “But what happened to you?”

Face darkening, he turns and casts the spoon aside his eyes widening as he lands on Michael. “He happened.” His voice is thin, devoid of its previous rush and excitement.

“You let him possess you.” he shoulders are slack, his mouth barely moves, it’s like he’s tired to the bone. “And you just left me. He killed Sam and Lucifer and I begged him – to leave you.”

Dean clenches his fist. He can feel the water clawing up his throat. Drowning. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, everything suddenly feeling too small.

This Castiel smiles at him, nodding in understanding. “He lets you out sometimes.” His eyes fill with tears, seeming torn between being enthusiastic and regretful. “And you come to me.” his voice wobbles. “I – I show you the Impala, we watch your favourite movies and I bake you a pie. At night, we have dinner… beer and chicken and ham and whatever you like but in the morning… when I wake up… _Michael_ is there.” He presses a hand to his lips. “You stopped coming. It’s been… almost an entire year and I don’t know what to do?”

“Have you prayed to him?” Michael’s voice is brisk, cutting through emotion quickly.

“What do you think I am?” he demands. “ _Of course_ I tried. I screamed myself hoarse but then I realised that I was only hurting Dean. To hear me screaming for him while he’s there alone… helpless. I still pray… from time to time. Just – just to say hello.”

Dean glances back at Michael then to Castiel again. “I’m sorry.” He says. “But we can’t stay long.”

Castiel’s eyes dart to Michael, wide and frantic. “Please Michael. Please. Just let me have dinner with him!” he blubbers. “Time is fluid. No time will pass on your side. You know this. Please.”

Dean’s heart clenches. He can’t imagine being in such a horrible situation. Never being able to see Cass, and when he does, it’s only for one night, before he gets possessed all over again.

“Just one night.” Dean locks eyes with Cass, who stares back at him before glancing off to the side.

“One night.”

“Thank you.” Castiel breathes. “And – and if you don’t mind. Can we be alone?”

Stiffening, Cass is about to interject when Dean raises a hand. “Yes. Of course.”

…

Cass pulls Dean aside after his counterpart heads back inside to start on the pie.

“Dean. Don’t be stupid. You don’t know him. He could be planning to kill you.”

“I don’t know him?” Dean echoes. Well that’s hilarious. “He’s you. Are you insinuating that I don’t know you?”

“Not all of me.’ Cass retorts.

“Cass. Trust me. He isn’t faking this.”

A mask of impassiveness falls upon his friend’s features. Dean can tell by the way his expression shutters and his spine straightens, bringing him up to his full height. “Fine.”

Dean knows that it isn’t fine. But, like always, time isn’t on their side. There’s no way for them to talk things through right now.

“Cass.” He winces thinking about just how much worse his next words will make things. “Can you ask Michael… to ask Michael to bring Dean back.”

Wordlessly, Cass nods and turns on his heel, marching away.

Dean sighs, but makes his way towards the engraved wooden door, no way is Dean letting Castiel waste anymore perfectly good pie on his account.

҈ §§§ȸ§§§ ҈҉


	5. Tantamount To Pie II

Despite his bravado, Dean is skittish about going into the cottage with Cass.

He’s obviously _Cass_ but from what Dean’s seen, he’s fallen pretty far from his rocker.

Could he possibly compare to this Dean? The one who probably stayed here with Castiel in this cottage?

He shuts the door gently behind him and follows Castiel through the house, making their way to the quaint kitchen. There’s no doubt that Dean bought all the stuff in here. These are the brand of pans he likes. Non stick too. And all of the utensils. Right down to the sponge.

“He – uh – _Dean_.” Still feels weird saying that. “And you lived here?”

Castiel eyes him sideways before bending to retrieve yet another pie from the oven. “Yes.”

“I hope I can make you forget. Just for tonight.”

Castiel smiles gently, setting the pie on the counter to cool. “I have no doubt you will.” They hold each other’s eyes for a minute, then Castiel waves him over. “Come help me set the table Dean.”

As they venture further into the house, Dean sees more and more of the life that they shared. No doubt built in stolen moments, one night intervals, that would only be ripped away in the morning light. It isn’t fair. That Castiel should have to suffer like this, especially when they should both be free. Castiel tries to smile at him encouragingly, but they all know that he isn’t the Dean who he spent years with. It’s fake… barely a bandage and they both know it.

His eyes drift to the TV stand. It’s filled with cowboy movies… some… chick-flicks. His eyes dart to Cass who smiles a little wider. He sees the board games on the shelf and the deck of cards. Dean knows that they had fun, that they were determined to do the best that they could do with what little time they had.

The scraping of a chair jars him from his thoughts. Cass stands behind the chair at the head of the table. “Sit.” He says.

Dean approaches cautiously. His Cass never pulled out a chair for him. “Wasn’t I supposed to set the table.”

His face falls. “Dean… my Dean… he’d say he’d set the table.”

“But?”

“But then we’d end up doing something else.”

“Something else?” he wonders, sitting down and letting Cass push his chair in. It’s strange… being treated like this. Dean is usually the one pushing in chairs and doing the ‘manly’ stuff. It feels kind of nice, actually, to be pampered like this.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cass says abruptly, already moving to the kitchen. “I’ll get our food.”

…

Castiel scowls, kicking up the dirt as he marches away from the stupid cottage. Michael is waiting for him by a little table and bench a few feet away. He smirks, in amusement as Castiel sits by his side.

They sit in silence for a while, Castiel too angry at Dean to even consider his next move.

Michael turn to him out of the blue and taps his shoulder.

“Yes?” he bites out.

“How does it feel to be in love with a Winchester?”

…

Dean is certain that he’s going to die of suffocation. His mouth is stuffed with beef and something Cass calls Shepard’s pie and this egg and salad concoction that _cannot_ actually be salad – it just tastes too good.

“Oh my God!” he moans past the food in his mouth. Believe it or not, Cass brought them mini-burgers as appetisers. “I love this. You’re like the best cook ever!”

Poking at his plate, forlornly, Castiel mumbles, “You taught me.”

That causes him to stop chewing. Damn it. He swallows the food in his mouth and lays a hand on Castiel’s. He isn’t really being fair is he? This should be about Castiel; not Dean’s over zealous stomach.

“So… what do you guys usually do after dinner?”

A large smile slowly spreads across his face. “Dean?” he says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Did you forget the pie?”

Dean throws his head back in shame. “Son of a bitch!”

Laughing, Castiel shakes his head and heads to the kitchen to get the pie. It’s just as delicious as last time and Dean just wishes that he had some way to preserve the taste of it.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Nodding along with him, Castiel also gobbles down huge mouthfuls of pie.

After dinner is finished, Dean sits quietly in contemplation while Castiel dumps the plates in the sink. Dean had learned a lot about him through their conversations. No doubt this universe is vastly different to theirs. This Castiel is a lot more sure of himself for one. And he isn’t afraid to call Dean out on his shit.

Like now.

He abandons the dirty dishes and approaches him, wearing a searching look. “What’s wrong Dean?”

“Nothing.” He says smoothly.

Castiel hooks his ankle around Dean’s chair leg and uses the leverage to pull him closer. “Talk to me.”

“I feel guilty.” He admits. This cabin. Seeing how similar it was to the… last world. “You know what we’re doing, right?”

“Universe hopping to find a way to defeat Chuck.”

“Uh huh.” Dean says, absentmindedly. “Well. Last place we went to… I found a way.”

Eyes widening, he sees the understanding dawn on Castiel. “And you didn’t tell the others about it. That’s why you’re still on this mission.” A pause. “Why?”

“I just –” His voice cracks and he takes a sip of his beer almost as a reflex. He can’t have this conversation without a buzz. “I couldn’t go through with it – not _that_ plan.” he whispers bitterly. It haunts him… had he made the wrong choice? Being selfish like that? One life for many… and he knows Cass would easily make the sacrifice. The problem is Dean. The problem is always Dean.

Leaning on his elbows he shuts his eyes, the crushing weight of simply _not knowing_ dragging him into the gutter.

“And what was the plan?” Castiel prods gently.

Dean clenches his fist. “I don’t know.”

In his periphery he sees Castiel frown. “You don’t know the plan you can’t go through with.” His voice is sceptical.

“Well…” Dean tries to articulate it; the undying need to just _escape_ that wretched place. But it suddenly doesn’t seem as clear as it had been in the heat of the moment. “I know how it ends.”

“With Chuck… dead?” Castiel asks. “Right?”

“Yes.” Dean shrugs. “Yeah. But –” he suddenly sees the silhouette of ghost Castiel. He sees himself waiting for the day he turns vengeful, putting a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger. “- you don’t make it.”

His eyes shutter, with understanding and maybe pity. “I’m sorry.”

“So you understand?” his voice is pleading. “You get why I just – couldn’t?”

“I get it.” his eyes shine with sadness. “If it were you – I would rather have let Lucifer roam free than lose you to Michael.”

“I’m sorry.”

Castiel studies him for a moment. “You made the wrong choice though – the selfish choice.” Dean gulps. “I wish you would have done the same thing here.”

“Me too.” Dean whispers.

“Do you want to find out what we do after dinner?” Castiel’s voice holds a more playful note now. Dean is almost astonished how normal he seems now that they’re alone. Now that he isn’t acting batshit crazy and screaming about pie.

“Okay.” He says. Honestly, Dean’s been dying to know this mysterious activity. Is it some kind of friendship ritual? Or maybe something secret that over time might allow Dean to cast Michael out?

The possibilities are infinite.

And although the possibilities are infinite and Dean’s been wracking his mind for over an hour, it doesn’t stop him from being completely blindsided as a pair of lips press against his.


	6. Tantamount To Pie III

Dean yanks his head away so fast he gets whip last. “Woah!” he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him on Castiel’s behalf.

“Dude! What are you thinking?”

His head tilts in confusion, eyes appraising Dean silently. Dean can tell the moment that understanding dawns. Castiel looks guilty. “I’m so sorry Dean.” He says.

Dean is prepared to give a tight lipped smile and move along, but Castiel’s next words almost strike him dead.

“I don’t suppose your Castiel would approve of this now, would he?”

Laughter erupts from his mouth. “Oh!” he laughs, “Cass would pitch a fit. He’d be stark raving mad. He’d probably gouge his eyes out. And eat them to escape this awful sight.” He realises the imagery may have been too graphic when he sees Castiel withdraw.

“Hey. I – sorry man.” He waves a helpless hand. “You know me. I’m not really good at reading emotions.”

“It’s quite alright Dean.” He says. “I’m in the wrong here. I know how I would react if I saw someone becoming intimate with my significant other – even if it was an alternate version of myself.”

“Do you mean… what I think you mean?” Dean’s voice is shrill.

Castiel frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“You think Cass and I are a couple?”

“Aren’t you?” Castiel retorts.

“No!” Dean feels like he should stomp his foot for good measure. This is like when he thought Cassie was Cass that first time – except worse. “Are – you’re saying that you and your Dean are together?”

“You and Cass are not?” his voice is surprised.

“No! No!” Dean insists. “Why do you even think that?”

Castiel parts his lips, prepared to reply, before pressing them together in a strained smile.

“Why do you think you aren’t together Dean?”

“Cause he’s my best friend.” The answer is immediate. “And he’s a dude.” He tacks on as a second thought.

Castiel considers this. “So… you don’t think you should date your best friend? Despite the millions of people who’ve done it and have turned out happy.”

“I – Yeah, but we’re not like that. And, like I said, Cass would have a coronary if he heard about this.” Dean’s eyes widen in panic. “He – he doesn’t … feel this way about me. Like you feel about your Dean. Does Cass feel like that?”

Dean doesn’t know what he would do if he did. Despite being pissed at him, Dean doesn’t want to make things even worse. He doesn’t know what to think… of Cass hiding his feeling and this universe having a Dean and Cass who date. The tons of food he just devoured rolls in his stomach.

“I didn’t.” Castiel interjects, interrupting his mental tirade. “I never really felt this way about Dean until we fell into bed one night while Michael was gone.”

Great. Now Dean will never get the image of the two of them in bed out of his head. “Dean… Dean ….” He sighs, before trying to get the rest of the sentence out. “I could tell he wasn’t into it either. But it felt nice. To be close like that. And…” he shrugs stiffly. “It just became part of what we do. We drive in Baby, eat diner, go to bed and have sex.” His eyes water. “Then, in the morning, I’d wake up… and realise he’s gone.”

“Cass.” Dean says in sympathy. He can’t imagine a life like that; a fate so cruel.

“So you don’t think that Cass is in love with me.”

“Before… all of this.” Castiel waves his hands around, gesturing to the room. “I just wanted to be with Dean. Spend time with him. He’s was my best friend – still is. I’d do anything for him. But I never thought of doing those things with him, until that night.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Dean’s shoulders sag in relief. Cass isn’t in love with him. Thank… somebody.

“So Cass isn’t in love with me.”

“I think I was always in love with you.” Castiel admits, rocking back slightly on his heels. “It was only when I realised that I could have something with you, that I allowed myself to feel it.”

Dean is flabbergasted. “But you just said that you and I quote: ‘never really felt this way about Dean until we fell into bed one night.’”

“I thought you were talking about sex.” He smiles sheepishly.

Never, has Cass smiled at him sheepishly before.

“Well, usually, I would be.” Dean has to admit. “But this time, I was talking about the love thing.” The world is slowly but surely tilting on its axis.

 _Cass is in love with you._ His brain taunts. He wants to tell it to shut up, but the countless years of monsters making snide remarks about them refuse to be silenced. Even Sam, on occasion would take a jab at them. But… Dean never put any stock into it. Cass never seemed to have any reaction whatsoever. Dean doesn’t know how he can keep living in a world where Cass is in love with him.

“That’s not to say that your Cass is in love with you.” Castiel says softly, as though sensing his panic. Which, of course, makes sense, cause y’know, they sleep together every friggin’ crescent moon! “Not all universes are the same. Not all of the people in them are the same… as you should know.”

Right.

Dean hadn’t even taught of that.

“In complete honesty.” Castiel seems a bit hesitant. “I thought…”

“What?” Dean wonders, leaning in. What could he possibly be wondering now?

“I thought you were the one in love with him.”

Dean splutters. In that moment he probably sounds like a dying horse, but he doesn’t care. This is outlandish! Him? In love with Cass? Somebody stick him with a fork and call him done.

“I am not.”

“You basically screwed your world because he dies.”

“I’d do the same for Sam!” he argues.

“Sam’s my brother.”

“So are you.” he retorts.

“It’s not the same.” Cass says.

Dean opens his mouth for a rebuttal but Cass beats him to it. “Don’t tell me otherwise. You _know_ it’s different.”

Of _course_ it’s different. How could it not be… but it isn’t like _that._

Dean is about to argue. And he means… the argument of his life, when Michael and Cass suddenly burst through the doors.

“Something’s following us!”


	7. An Ineffably Profound Bond I

Michael glances at Castiel as emotions flit across his face. Anger. Fear. Sadness. But the most prominent of them all is humiliation. He's ashamed of his affections for a mortal.

Michael can relate to that. He too, knows the shame that affection can bring. Castiel stares at him like a frightened deer.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"Everyone knows." He states factually. "Even when you came back with him... I knew you were different."

"I'm not." But his voice shakes.

He winces as he feels Adam tug against his hold. It's not often that they isolate one another while the other is in control. And its even less often that they fight it. They're pretty respectful of each other's privacy.

It's all they have really. At times it was the only thing keeping them from going insane. In the cage, those moments where one of them would bear the brunt of his brother's torments and allow the other to take a much needed break were integral to how close they had become.

They don't get a chance to continue their conversation though, because he soon realises why Adam had been trying to get our attention.

A being... powerful and indiscernible to him is racing after them.

"We have to leave."

...

Dean blinks in confusion at Michael and glances back to Castiel. 

"We can't leave just yet."

"Dean!" Cass snaps at him.

His tongue is caught in his throat. "Keep praying to him. It helps trust me."

"I've contacted the Michael of this world." Michael announces. "Dean will be here shortly and for three of the seven days in a week."

Dean doesn't have much time to gape or pat Mikey on the back for a job well done because suddenly they're plucked from that universe and dumped into another. One... apparently, where the Winchesters hang out at a fancy shmancy restaurant opposite the strangest looking bookstore ever.

"What is this place?" Cass asks, fidgeting in his posh chair.

"A place where we won't be followed" Michael replies.

"And... where exactly is that?"

"In a world with no Winchesters."

“Well this is useless.”

“Whoever is following us won’t think to come to a place like this.” Michael reasons. “Besides, Adam wants to stay and have some of this food.”

“Oh Adam huh?” he snaps. “The brother who you don’t let us talk to.”

Michael glares at Dean. “We talked about this. And we all agreed.”

“How’s he even supposed to taste it when Michael is the one riding shot gun?” he whispers to Cass.

“It’s possible.” His friend says evenly.

Cass looks uneasy. Not in the normal way. Dean feels uneasy right now. He’s sitting in his old plaid in front of all these class folk in a restaurant he’s certain they’d need to sell a kidney to afford. But Cass is a different kind of uncomfortable. It almost reminds him of that time he took him to a strip club.

“We might as well order if Mr Posh is paying.” He tilts his head at Michael.

“Alright.” Cass says, but remains staring at the table.

“Man, come on.” He prods, “That last one wasn’t too bad. From what Michael said, other Dean is coming back. They get to live as happily ever after as they could be.”

No reaction.

Alright. Let’s go for the shock factor then. “Which, as it turns out, may involve marriage and making out.” Dean still isn’t too comfortable with that idea of them being together, even if it isn’t actually them and even knowing that the real Cass isn’t in love with him.

It gets a reaction though. His head springs up and he stares, wide eyed. “Impossible.”

“I thought the same thing right up till he kissed me.”

Michael makes a coughing sound. “Must you talk about this?”

“I must.” Dean says shortly and turns away. “Ignore douche-y over there. But yeah, he kissed my lights out.”

“Oh.”

The sound of snapping has Dean turning to look at Michael. He only realises what Michael has done.

“There. Now you you’ll fit in.” Michael says beckoning their waiter.

“What’ll be today gentlemen?” Dean purses his lips at the British accent. It reminds him of the Men of Letters – Mick. Crowley.

“I’ll have the grilled and seasoned salmon with the shrimp scampi and lamb chops. Oh, and a bottle of wine.” The waiters nods as he scribbles away. “Oh!” Michael says suddenly. “And a hamburger, medium rare, pickles and all the dressings.”

Dean knows that one’s for Adam.

“And you two?” the waiter nods at them.

“I’ll have what he’s having.” Cass says.

“Uh.” Dean smacks his lips together. “I’ll take the largest slice of ….” He glances down at the menu. “Apple pie you got. And the ribs if you please.”

“Alright. I’ll be back with your order in a splash.”

Dean shudders. “This place is funky.”

“I agree.” Cass says. “Michael, when are we leaving.”

“When I think it’s time.” Michael replies in that gratingly aloof tone.

Dean takes stock of the restaurant. All the people in look like they’re in the upper echelons of society. The place looks mostly filled with couples and to-be-couples. It’s the kind of joint where proposals are made via a ring in your wine glass. Dean hates it.

He spots their waiter as he makes their way out of the kitchen, his eyes latching into the steaming hot plates of pie almost immediately.

“Hey Cass.” He whispers. “You’ll let me eat your pie right?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He replies in surly voice.

Frowning in confusion he tears his gaze away from the waiter. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re suddenly talking to me now.” Cass bristles.

Dean stills.

Right.

He completely forgot that he was supposed to be mad at Cass. Talking to that other version of him felt so much like talking to the real Cass that Dean just transferred the peace and absolution he felt after that conversation to the real Cass. But it isn’t and Dean can’t afford to forget that. But why?

He glances across at Cass whose eyes are trained on the door, filled with longing.

And his anger slams into him again with full force, ploughing through the hurt and disappointment he feels.

The beautiful pie only looks half as appetising now.

“Why are you always so mad at me Dean?” Cass asks suddenly, poking at his own piece of pie.

Dean glances at Michael who seems utterly detached from them. Lost in his shrimp scampi or whatever. “Does Adam even like that?”

Michael glances between Dean and Cass and shrugs. “Adam is like you. He prefers burgers and pizza. But I know humans also enjoy this sort of sustenance so I suggested it and Adam agreed to try it.” Michael smirks. “I think he quite likes it.”

“I apologised to you.” Cass whispers. “And you couldn’t hear me.”

Dean swallows, reaching for his wine glass to buy himself a moment. “You always apologise. I always forgive you.” he thinks of all the times it had happened.

With Crowley – he’d hurt Sam and Dean still forgave him. He literally left them to clean up his mess and Dean forgave him. He worked with Sam behind his back and they got Charlie killed and Dean forgave him. He chose Kelly over then and Dean forgave him. He died like an idiot and when he got back he kept secrets again and Dean forgave him. He didn’t let him know that Jack wasn’t all there and then his mother died because of that and Dean would have forgave him. But then he check out first chance he got and Dean realised… Cass keeps leaving. And Dean keeps forgiving him.

He takes a breath. “I _always_ forgive you… then you always leave.”

Cass is silent. Watching Dean as he finishes off his slice of pie. They stare at each other a moment, Dean, almost too angry to even bother asking for Cass’ share. Sighing, Cass pushes the plate over and leaves his fingers on the edge, as though waiting to pull away at a moment’s notice.

“You never make me feel as though I can stay.”

Now that just isn’t true. Maybe, that last time, Dean didn’t stop him but that’s because he knew that Cass just wanted to leave. Get away from him. After the first few times, he’d done everything in his power to let Cass know that they needed him – that Dean needed him – by their side. But nothing had worked. Tearing Purgatory apart to find him only to have him _choose_ to stay behind? That was a blow Dean never recovered from. They hung out. They made a home in the bunker. They trained with each other in their free time and watched movies and drank beer.

Nothing was good enough.

Cass leaving.

It’s inevitable.

And Dean is insulted by him trying to suggest otherwise.

He doesn’t say a word, preferring to indulge in his pie and glance around the fancy restaurant. There’s chandeliers on the ceiling and a piano off to the side. There’s even a platform where a few patrons sit. What catches his eye is the contrast between the two men closest to the edge. One wears a hideous white contraption that looks to be about forty years old but is somehow not falling apart at the seams. His hair is completely white and him and the other man across from him are talking animatedly and laughing raucously.

Conversely, the other man is decked off in complete black. He sits half off his chair, leaning towards the other man. His legs are crosses and he waves his wine glass about carelessly. What catches his eye though, are the sun glasses.

Only two types of people wear sunglasses inside: blind people… and douchebags.

The man in black laughs and removes the shades to wipe at his eyes. It’s only for a second, but it’s enough for Dean to realise what they’re dealing with.

Only two types of people wear sunglasses inside: blind people… and douchebags and… as it turns out, yellow eyed demons.


	8. An Ineffably Profound Bond II

“I’ll be back momentarily.” Announces Michael, wiping at his mouth with the light blue napkin. Then, before anyone has a chance to say or do anything, he vanishes.

Scowling Castiel slams his spoon down with a hiss.

“Now you know what it feels like.” Dean says calmly, as though the only person who could save them hadn’t just vanished into thin air. He fiddles with the edge of the table cloth. Is this how Dean felt when he left. It had always been for a good reason. To find a far away ingredient or a person. Time was of the essence so he hadn’t bothered with platitudes, thinking that Sam and Dean would understand. Clearly they hadn’t.

And he kind of understands why.

To have something steady one moment and to have it vanish in the next is very off putting. Castiel feels off-kilter and defenceless. And he doesn’t even like Michael much.

How would it have felt… to Dean… who considered him his best friend?

He might understand a bit more now, but Dean still doesn’t understand why he was so quick to leave. It wasn’t that he felt obtuse… rather, he was always _needed_. Needed and never wanted. He came to them and did a task. When that task was complete he was in limbo until the next time he could be useful. He just wishes Dean would understand that.

Castiel is still stewing in his anger when Dean prods at him with his fork.

“What?” he barks, half wishing his lips would allow him to say something else.

_Dean stop acting like this. You’re hurting us both. I’m sorry._

“Yellow eyed demon.” He whispers. “Two o’ clock.”

Due to countless movies, he knows exactly what that means and he glances over, as discretely as he can.

Sure, the figure in the black suit and sunglass is obviously a demon, but what Dean hadn’t noticed…

“He’s sitting with an angel.” Castiel breathes in awe. How had they managed to not destroy each other.

They seem happy in each other’s presence, laughing and talking like old friends. Castiel can’t understand the mechanics of it. Angels and demons may join forces on occasion, but never… never has an angel sat with a demon, sipping wine and laughing wildly.

“Excuse me?” The statement seems to deeply affront Dean as well.

“The one in white.” Castiel whispers. “He is an angel.”

“An angel and a demon walk into a restaurant.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Sounds like the start of a really bad joke.”

“Well… here we have it.” he gestures at the pair. “Maybe this universe is different. Maybe everyone is amicable here?” he offers.

As unlikely as he might think it actually is, he hopes Dean will buy it. The last thing they need is for Dean to set his eyes on a target and begin to hunt.

It’s like a cycle with them. They fight. They ignore each other. They find a hunt and blow past whatever started their fight in the first place. In a weird way, it’s Dean’s way of making peace with him. And while he appreciates the effort, he hates that they never get a chance to talk about the real crux of the matter.

Usually… he’d jump at the chance to hunt with Dean. But now? In the middle of a strange universe… stranded without their ride. Castiel doesn’t want to take the risk.

“You believe that bullshit?” Dean says sarcastically.

He sighs. He knew Dean was too smart for that.

“Dean.” He says seriously, causing Dean to pause midway in retrieving his blade.

“What?” he stares at Castiel as though he can’t understand why he’d pass up a perfectly good hunt.

“We’re here alone Dean.” He says, his voice sounding more worried than he’d hoped. “Michael certainly doesn’t consider himself liable for us. If we get lost, trapped or killed here Dean, he won’t care.”

Dean licks at his lips before turning in his chair and picking at his pie again.

“What are you doing?” Castiel whispers.

“I’m eating my pie.” Says Dean blandly.

“Oh.”

Glancing up, he finds himself facing a pair of green eyes. “You said to drop it. This is me… dropping it.”

Castiel gapes at him. Could it be so easy? No blow out? No blame? Just… compliance?

The thought is foreign and it makes him more uneasy than happy.

“Thank you.” It is the right thing to say, but the words feel unnatural coming from his mouth. They don’t say the words anywhere near enough to each other. They act like every task is a duty and doing it needs no reward. Not to say that he wants a reward. But giving and receiving a thank you every now and again wouldn’t hurt.

“Cass…” Dean’s voice trails off and he glances around hesitantly. “You… say you don’t feel like you can stay.” He swallows, but Castiel can tell there’s no pie in his mouth. “In the bunker. Why?”

“Do you even need to ask that?” It sounds cruel but it’s true. He could list the number of ways until he was blue in the face. But there was always a reason to come back; one reason with a bacon addiction and a Western fetish.

“Yes.” Dean says firmly. “I have no idea what went wrong.”

“You telling me that I’m the thing that always goes wrong seems like something we should lead with.” He wants to add some bite to it. To mirror how hurt and betrayed he’d felt. But it’s hard to when Dean is actually trying to be considerate. He’s talking about their problem rather than pushing it aside to facilitate the monster of the week.

“Cass.” He can hear the regret in Dean’s voice. “That isn’t true. I was just so angry. I didn’t know – the things coming out of my mouth just – I couldn’t stop. It’s a shitty excuse but that – that’s just how I am.”

Castiel is about to say something when Dean suddenly slams his fork down and pushes the pie away. “Sometimes Cass… I think you’re the only thing going right for me. Just having you with me is like a win in a sea of losses. And when you go… ” Dean’s voice trembles and he can sense the emotions welling in Dean. He knows the exact moment his friend loses control. His shoulders shake slightly and his palms press into his eyes to try to stop his tears.

“I never should have let you go.” Dean’s words are muffled by his hand, covering his mouth. Castiel is thankful for the privacy the booth provides and the fact that the closest patron is way out of ear shot.

His hands feel numb in his lap. He isn’t sure what to do with them. Should he use them to comfort Dean just like in the movies? Is that something Dean would appreciate at this moment?

Emotions are strange, wily, things. And he never imagined that Dean might feel this way. That his emotions would be powerful enough to reduce him to a mess. He hates it. That he caused his friend such distress. So Castiel reaches forward with one hand to stroke Dean’s head as he burries his face in the folds of his elbow as he tries to even his breathing.

Guilt eats at him when he catches a glimpse of Dean’s red rimmed eyes.

“Dean. I am so sorry.”

Dean shakes his head. “No.” he says. “No. I’m the one who need to be sorry Cass. You mean everything to me and I just let you go. What kind of person does that? I wanted you to stay with me. I wanted you to give me _time_. I thought you knew that… but you just didn’t care.”

“It’s okay Dean.” He whispers, “And, for the record, I wanted to stay with you to.”

“Then don’t leave.” Dean says in a rush. The sadness and tears are gone but are now replaced by a feverish conviction. “If I start acting like a jackass, just knock my lights out. Just don’t leave.”

“I won’t leave then.” He promises, reaching out to squeeze Dean’s arm.

Dean sniffles twice, smiling down at the connection point before reaching over with his other hand and rapping his knuckles against Cass’.

His eyes gleam with sincerity and enthusiasm, the likes of which he hasn’t seen in a while. “Thank you Cass.”


	9. An Ineffably Profound Bond III

The thanks from Dean is like a weight lifted off of his soul.

He feels lighter.

Appreciated.

Dean had said almost everything that he had wanted him to say, but something still feels missing.

“Dean?” he asks, feeling emboldened by Dean’s confession.

Before, when he just thought that they kept him around for the heck of it, he’d been stingy with his opinions, not wanting to be put more at odds with Dean than he already was. Now though, things could be more open between them from here on out.

“Can we talk?” he asks. “I know you just said… a lot. But we have to talk so that things never get that bad again.”

“I… um… actually have something to tell you.”

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything.” He assures.

“I know… it’s just.” He gulps. “I feel guilty. The other you… he really kissed me. And he said stuff.”

Castiel’s heart constricts.

“He thought I was in love with you.” Dean laughs it off, but that one sentence pulls the rug from under his feet, sending him sprawling into a chasm of doubt. “But that isn’t what I wanted to say. It’s about _why_ he thou-” Dean pauses, his hand reaching out to grab at Castiel’s wrist.

“Shit.” He mutters. “Don’t turn okay? But those two creeps are eyeing us like stake.”

Castiel has seconds to collect himself.

“What should we do.”

“I know you said don’t fight but…”

“We can’t let them kill us either.” He agrees.

“Right.”

“He must sense that I’m an angel.” Castiel muses.

“We don’t have the Colt.” Dean says, trying to act natural.

Castiel isn’t sure how to explain to him that he looks shifty as an earthquake.

“Dean please try to stay calm.” He says trying to school his own features into compliance.

“How?” Dean demands. “Michael fucked off to La La Land and we aer defenceless and trapped in his wretched place.”

“We’re together.”

Dean sighs. “That’s the only thing I have going for me.”

He cracks a smile at that. “Then stay calm. Because we’re going to figure this out.”

…

Many slices of pie and a few glasses of wine later, Dean chances a glance over to the happy couple.

Yup.

Still obnoxiously present and chugging wine like water.

It’s almost like they’re in a game of chicken. To see which pair breaks and leaves first. And damn it to hell, it isn’t going to be them. Cass had looked at him funny when he revealed his idea of chicken but he’d reluctantly stayed put, saying that it was better to keep them in their line of sight.

The plus side though, is that Dean had the fortitude to make some holy water from the glasses the waiter brought them. That should at least hurt yellow eyes. And the angel blade covers the angel.

He can’t believe that he almost told Cass about – the thing he said he would never think of again. The poor guy is probably sitting there, beyond confused, thinking that Dean is in love with him. It could ruin this new equilibrium that they have.

“Hey Cass?” he waits till he has Cass full attention. “You know you don’t have to worry right. I’m not in love with you.”

That other Cass had confused him.

Maybe things are different between Cass and him and him and Sam. But that doesn’t matter. Cass is still family. And who cares what strangers think? And Sam must have been teasing. Dean knows his friend, and he knows the limits of their bond.

Cass doesn’t look relived. He doesn’t look like anything in particular. He just continues on as his statement had no meaning whatsoever.

Dean feels an unwarranted stab of dejection at that.

He just swallows it down, like he does most things and glances over to their prey.

Gone.

His whole body freezes up in panic.

“Cass.”

He sees the gleam of his angel blade, from the side of the table cloth.

“Hello there.” A cheerful voice chrips.

Dean grips his own blade tightly, one hand near the holy water.

“We noticed you watching us….” The man in white says.

What the hell? This must be the strangest angel to ever exist… including Cass. And that dude is pretty strange sometimes. The outfit looks ridiculous and the happy-go-lucky tone makes Dean think that he really might be that nice.

“So we thought we’d come closer to give you lads a better view.”

The demon takes residence on Michael’s chair and straightens his shades.

“You’re an angel.” Jack Frost look-a-like says, practically flitting over to Cass side. “I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t tried to kill me yet. I’m a – what do you say – persona non grata in heaven.”

Dean’s eyes flit to Cass.

“I am no longer accepted by our brethren either.” Castiel says, his voice tells Dean that he’s already entranced.

Oh no.

Please don’t let Cass have a friggin’ crush on the monster.

“Angel.” The other man snaps, “Let’s not give them our life story just yet.”

“Oh but Crowley.” He purrs, rolling the ‘r’ “There’s not enough time in the world for our entire story.”

“Righto.”

“Crowley?” Dean screeches. “Like Fergus, Crowley?”

Suddenly the yellow eyes don’t bother him. He misses their Crowley. Dean hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him before his sacrifice. Sam had been the one with the spell.

The demon regards him with a pinched expression. “Fergus?” he spits. “Excuse you but _I_ am Anthony J Crowley.”

He moves his hand but Dean is already reaching for the holy water. “Don’t even think about it demon. This is holy water.”

Both Crowley and the angel scoot about five seats over.

“Oye!” Crowley shouts. “You can’t just wave that around. You could kill someone. Can you believe this Aziraphale?”

He shares a look with Cass.

“This will kill you?”

“Melted like an ice cream on a hot day.” Says the angel – Aziraphale – in a jumpy tone.

“Worse than dis-corporation.” Agrees his counterpart.

“Why were you watching us?” Dean demands.

“I thought Castiel was sent to kill us.” Aziraphale says sheepishly. “Then we realised that you don’t bear the markers of this world.”

He snorts.

“Alright.” Dean says, resting the glass on the table.

“You two better skedaddle before I accidentally spill some of this.”

“Wait.” Cass says. “I sense no mal intent Dean.”

“Okay…”

“Maybe they can help us.” Cass says brightly. Dean has to force a smile.

This is obviously Cass’ crush talking.

“My bookstore is right across the street.” Says Aziraphale. “It has all sorts of texts on the occult.”

“Of course it does.” Dean says glumly.


	10. An Ineffably Profound Bond IV

Aziraphale almost immediately whisks him away when they enter the book shop.

And Castiel is blown away by the sheer mass of the collection here. He hadn’t realised the shop was this big. It rivals even the bunker’s trove of knowledge, minus the weaponry.

He feels like he’s found a kindred spirit. Someone he can relate to on a base level. Someone with energy to distract him from the fact that Dean doesn’t love him and had felt the need to point it out, point blank.

He’s always held a smidgen of hope. Tormenting himself with it for years. Now, maybe it’s for the best that he has a clear answer. He can stop making a fool of himself. Stop holding out hope for something that would never happen.

He’d never stop loving Dean, but now he can maybe try to temper it.

“Castiel.” Aziraphale hums. “I never knew another angel named Castiel.”

He gives a wry laugh. “Associating with me hasn’t brought anyone luck.”

“Come now.” He says. “You seem like a stand-up chap.”

He feels the need to point of his wide and varied failings.

“I like your top coat.” He says, changing the topic like he’s seen Dean do so many times.

“Thank you.” he says brightly. “I’ve kept it in mint condition for many years.” he looks Castiel up and down. “Your style is very… reserved.”

He smiles, fiddling with the ends of the trench-coat. “It’s what I’ve always worn.”

Aziraphale snaps and suddenly the coat is folded neatly on a nearby shelf and Castiel is now decked off in an outfit just like Aziraphale’s. Only, his is a burgundy colour.

He wonders if Dean will like it before slapping himself. He has to get out of that mentality.

Dean will never love him. Too much had gone wrong in their universe… he’d made too many mistakes.

Sure, Dean might forgive him now, but he has no doubt that he’ll do something to anger the man again. He promised that he wouldn’t leave… Dean had made no such assurances about not kicking him out. The depth of Dean’s emotions earlier still overwhelm him. He wanted to continue talking to him. Hash out all the misunderstandings that they might have… and eventually get back to a place where they could trust each other again.

He misses that most of all. The way Dean never used to hesitate coming to him with his doubts and fears and how that made him feel as though he could do the same.

Their talk earlier had exposed the roots of their dispute.

Dean thinks he doesn’t want to stay… and he had thought that Dean wanted him to go. If they had managed to make such a major miscommunication about such a simple thing, what else had they misinterpreted?

“Maybe I can show Dean.” Castiel suggests, eager to get back to his friend. He knows how hard it was to say all of that. How vulnerable he must he feeling right now… especially, given that they hadn’t finished their conversation.

Aziraphale hums in approval. “You certainly do look spiffy.”

He frowns at that. “Spiffy?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale says. “You look good. Dean will like it.”

“Dean isn’t one for fashion.” He admits.

The other angel laughs. “I can tell. What he was wearing when you two came in...” Aziraphale shudders.

“I have to ask.” His tone is carefully probing. “An angel and a demon. I’ve never heard of that, even in my universe.”

“Don’t say it like that.” He says, pressing a hand to his cheek to hide his flush.

“Like what?” he asks in confusion.

“Like we’re something more than what we are.”

Castiel just frowns at that. “Are you speaking in tongues.” He doubts it as he’s familiar with most of them, but maybe this universe has different proverbs.

“Oh, don’t bother. It’s not important.” He says waving a dismissive hand.

Castiel steps out into the living area, his eyes immediately searching for Dean. All he finds is furniture and cutlery.

“Where is Dean?” he demands.

…

Dean doesn’t want to be that person. The one who rains on his friend’s parade.

But watching Castiel and Aziraphale prance around the room, gushing over ancient text and biblical inaccuracies is starting to get on his nerves.

“Lumber jack?” Crowley calls over. Dean notices that he also looks on in distaste. “We’re not really needed here. Why don’t we scam. Head back to my place.”

He narrows his eyes. “Sounds like you’re trying to pick me up.”

All he gets is a wink.

“Cass.” He calls. His voice growing smaller as he realises Cass isn’t paying any attention to him. “Cass. I’m headed out.”

No reply.

Just dusty bookshelves.

Throughout the evening, Dean had to constantly quash the disappointment of hearing Crowley’s name and not having their Crowley clap back with a snarky retort. It doesn’t help that Cass seems to be in love with his new angel friend. Bonding over every speck of dust that passes by.

Dean shakes his head. This is stupid. He’ll just go with the demon and he misbehaves Dean will make some holy water is dis-corporate the hell out of him.

Crowley leads him outside. It’s dark now so the streets are empty. They walk a few paces before stopping next to a hunk of a car.

“A Bentley?” Dean asks in disbelief. “This is your car?”

He wants to drape himself all over it.

Crowley chuckles. “A man of impeccable taste I see.”

Dean should be concerned about having the same preferences as a demon, but this is hardly the worst thing that’s happened to him.

“Can I drive?” he asks hopefully.

“No way you wanker.” He says but without any real bite.

Though he’s disappointed, Dean can relate. He won’t let just anyone lay a finger on – much less drive – his baby.

“So what plans do you have for us then?” Dean wonders as he jumps in shotgun.

As he shuts the door, Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ blares through the speakers. Crowley adjusts his sunglasses and shrugs. “My car has a… um, peculiar taste in music.”

“It could be worse.” Dean says. “It could like Celine Dion.”

Crowley smirks at him before twisting his face in disgust. “If she dared play that racket I’d have – well, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“So…” Dean asks again. “Plans?” he’s a little antsy that he just brushed over his question earlier.

“Oh, I’m taking you to my apartment.”

Dean raises a brow. “Oh? Look, don’t get the wrong idea buddy-”

“What do you mean?” he says, gunning the engine and pulling out at breakneck speed. For once, Dean remembers to put on his seatbelt. Crowley pulls sharply past three lanes of on coming traffic at a red light and Dean feels his life flashing before his eyes.

“We’re going to scream boisterously at my rebellious plants.” Crowley says excitedly. “If that doesn’t suit your fancy feel free to hop out. But I am not stopping.”


	11. An Ineffably Profound Bond V

Dean walks into the apartment without an ounce of trepidation. Which is stupid. He’s here with some strange demon. He should be reaching for his blade and stabbing him through the skull. Maybe he’s fooling himself with his expectations. They have the same name, they both wear black… but that doesn’t mean that he’s the Crowley that Dean loves to hate.

If only his stupid, nostalgic heart would get the memo.

“Dean.” Says Crowley, pressing his teeth together on the ‘e.’ “Such a strange, American name.”

“Crowley.” He returns. “Are you part crow?”

The other man glowers darkly at him. A promise of pay back. Now, that, sends chills up Dean’s spine.

“Tally ho _Dean_.” He says, “Time to scream.”

For some reason Dean feels like he’s making a double entendre.

Either way, he ain’t sleeping with some random dude. He’s not sleeping with any dude at all. Well, apparently, some versions of him enjoy sleeping with Cass, but those other universes have no standing.

He follows Crowley into a room filled with greens plants of all sizes. They tremble and shudder uncontrollably as he enters the room. Great. A demon who traumatises plants.

He snaps his fingers and suddenly a Jacuzzi appears, steam rising above the circular enclosure.

“I do enjoy a good soak.” Says Crowley as he starts to strip. “Besides, the steam warms up my screaming voice.”

“Does that even make sense to you?”

“It makes complete sense to me.” he says slipping off his trousers.

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t look away. It’s clear that Crowley is trying to intimidate him with his dick. Of course he goes commando.

Well, Dean smirks. He isn’t the only one.

Maintaining eye contact, he removes his shirt, tossing it aside then moves to unbutton his pants. Crowley makes a show of looking down and Dean has to fight his reflex to turn away. Dean has to admit, they’re both similar sizes in the downstairs department.

“Are you going to get in?” he asks in a challenging voice.

He doesn’t feel as nervous anymore. Sure, he won’t have his weapon in the water, but the water itself can be weaponised. One hailmary and boom! Holy water and melted demon.

…

“Where is he?” Castiel demands, drawing his angel blade. How could he be so stupid. The plan had been to separare them all along. And he’d left Dean alone and vulnerable with a _demon._

They should have stuck together, like they had planned. But Castiel had been so enticed by Aziraphale’s welcoming nature. It’d been so long that another angel treated him with respect, much less affection.

“There’s no need for violence Castiel.” Aziraphale says, raising his hands in surrender. “Crowley probably just took him out to see his car. It’s a Bently, I can’t quite remember the year, but he adores that car.”

Castiel still remains tense. “Take me to him.”

…

Castiel feels himself bristle as he hears shouting coming from Crowley’s apartment. He hadn’t believed his ears when Aziraphale told him that Dean must have gone to Crowley’s place. Because he knows Dean would never have gone there willingly. And the ruckus inside just proves his point.

He kicks the door in, but not even that stops the noise. Aziraphale winces at his side, but trails behind him as he enters.

“Grow better you pieces of garbage! Or I’ll drop you of the balcony and leave you to rot, passers-by stampeding over your malnourished roots, the heavy rain drowning you slowly until you finally are allowed the sweet release of death.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you how to photosynthesise right?”

A pause. “That’s actually good.”

“How about you get an aquarium and drown them. That way the others can watch.”

“Or they can take a dip with us.” Crowley purrs.

He hears Dean laugh and he falters on his final step into the room. Aziaphale, though, doesn’t pick up on his indecision and barrels into him, sending them both sprawling into the room.

A loud splash comes from nearby and Castiel finds himself face to face with the male genitalia of Crowley.

More splashing sounds and he finds Dean standing with a soaked shirt covering his own naked body.

“Dude!” Dean snaps. “Don’t just stand there and look at it!”

“Angel are you okay?”

Castiel blocks out Aziraphale’s response as he marches over to Dean. “Are you stupid?”

The easy expression slips off of Dean’s face and is replaced by a scowl.

“How could you just leave like that?” he demands.

“I _tried_ to tell you!” Dean snaps. “But you were too busy with your new little crush that you didn’t hear me. Look! He even gave you a make-over!” Dean gestures at his new outfit.

Castiel knows that Dean isn’t one for fashion, but he had held out hope, foolishly, that Dean would like it. Like _him._ He has to fight against the flush of embarrassment that threatens to make itself known.

He channels his anger onto Dean. “I see _you_ got a make-over too!”

Glancing down, he finds Dean’s fingers tighten on the white shirt covering his crotch.

Dean rushes to explain. “We were just-”

But Castiel is having none of it. “Skinny dipping? With a stranger?”

“We were just hanging out Cass.” Dean hisses. “Like you and the angel over there.”

“ _We_ didn’t have sex!” he almost wants to take it back the moment he says it. It sounds jealous… revealing.

Dean just rolls his eyes. “A version of you from another universe has sex with a man once!” he pins Castiel with a glare. “And all of a sudden your best friend is assuming things about your sexuality.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. He doesn’t sense a lie.

“Then why?” he gestures at the water and at Dean’s nakedness.

Dean sighs deeply. “Look. You were just chummy with him… and it felt like there wasn’t a place for me.”

“Dean I’ve known him less than an hour.” Castiel says drily.

“I just –” Dean breaks off, shaking his head.

“What?” Castiel asks, keeping his voice gentle, not wanting to dissuade Dean from saying whatever he needs to say.

“I know it’s stupid. But he reminds me of our Crowley – and I feel like I can trust him.”

Castiel nods. “Thank you for telling me.” He never understood the relationship between Dean and Crowley, but he knows that Dean missed him after he died.

“Nothing happened.” Dean assures. “You know I don’t swing that way.”

Castiel feel the vice close around his heart once more.

…

“Adam?” Michael halts, stopping in whatever universe this is. “Are you alright?”

Silence greets him.

“Adam?” he tries again, panic brewing.

It’s not like Adam to not reply. It’s even less like him to hide from Michael.

He waits a beat before sending his grace out in a pulse, searching for Adam.

He finds him crouched in a corner, his knees pressed against his eyes and his hands over his hears.

“Adam.” Michael manifests himself. It’s dangerous to ignore the physical world and be here like this. But he needs to know what’s wrong. “Adam?” he shakes his shoulders gently.

That seems to break Adam’s concentration.

At the same moment he looks up, Michael hears a screeching sound that brings him to his knees beside Adam.

He presses a hand to his head blocking the noise.

He gasps, realising that Adam must have been taking the brunt of the screeching transmission while he surveyed the area to make sure it was safe. Now, Michael is here, so he won’t have to suffer any longser. “Thank you for bearing this Adam.”

“This… this is from the thing that was following us.” Adam says, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“It feels ancient, Adam.” He scrunches his eyes together in concentration and tries to sense the origin of the signal past the pain. “Familiar yet dangerous.”


	12. An Ineffably Profound Bond VI

“You know I don’t swing that way.”

Cass’ expression closes off and the second bout of doubt wriggles it’s way, deeper into Dean’s mind. Nesting, setting up long lasting roots.

On a good day, Dean is oblivious.

But no one in any universe could possibly be _that_ oblivious.

Cass flinched.

Could Cass be in love with him?

Dean wants to just suck it up and ask him. But what if Cass is really in love with him?

How horrible would it be to just put him on the spot like that?

Dean can’t imagine how Cass could fall in love with him after the way Dean treated him but this is Cass.

“You okay?” he asks instead.

Cass blinks, seeming to come back to himself. “Yes, but…”

Dean winces at the memory that comes and slaps him in the face.

This exact conversation, but Dean had cut Cass off before he could continue. Because he’d been too caught up in himself to see that his friend had something important to tell him. And by the look of it, Cass is expecting a repeat of that time. Dean feels his heart wrench at his friend’s expression. He put that dazed, off-kilter look no Cass’ face.

“Go on.” Dean encourages, hating that he has to say it at all. They were so close once, that he wouldn’t even have to say the words. One look would do.

But he’d been angry.

So angry.

But he has let that go now.

Cass looks over at him with a tear-jerking amount of scepticism and hopefulness.

“You can talk to me.” he offers.

Cass opens his mouth, then clamps his jaw shut. “We have an audience.”

Dean turns to find Crowley and Aziraphale observing them like some sort of bacteria in a microscope. The level of concentration coming from them is unnerving.

“What do we look like?” he demands. “A soap opera?”

“Honestly, you remind me of this porn video I once saw.”

As the words leave Crowley’s lips, he sees a flush plaster itself across the angel’s face.

Great. The demon watches gay porn.

“Later then.” He promises. “When we have some privacy.”

“We can book you a room down the hall.” Aziraphale offers, seeming to gain his composure.

“Sure. But are you getting a double or a single?”

Dean wants to strangle him.

“Double.” Dean says, narrowing his eyes.

…

Dean growls at the bed.

A freaking king sized bed.

“That rat bastard.” He grumbles. “Well, pony up Cass. We’re sleepin together tonight.”

To say Cass looks stricken is an understatement. He looks as though he would rather die than even think of spending a night at Dean’s side.

Right. So one point to the ‘Cass does not love him’ side.

“Did you see his car?” Dean says, closing his eyes in bliss. Angel travel takes its toll on a guy.

“In passing.” Cass says, his tone snippy.

“Dude. It was a Bentley!”

Cass cuts him a look. “I assume that’s how he wooed you into coming to his place.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Don’t make it sound like that dude.”

“Well, I did find you both naked.”

Dean’s smile wilts off his face.

This is gonna be one interesting talk.

…

“Adam?” Michael sets them down in a secure location, in a universe with no life at all. The creature following them will have no clue that they’re here.

“Yes, Michael.” Adam’s voice is small in his mind.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“You’re mad at me right?” he says, defeated, “That I hid the sound from you.”

“Well…” Of course Michael is mad. He’s steaming at Adam had decided to take such a burden upon himself to spare Michael. The force and frequency of the cries are grating and draining even to an archangel. He can’t fathom how Adam managed to contain it for as long as he did.

“I hid things from you too.” Is what he says instead.

“That’s true.” Adam acquiesces. “Not to intrude, but what can Castiel know, that I can’t?”

“I didn’t mean to shove you aside Adam.” He assures, and Michael sees some of the weight lift from Adam’s shoulders at the admission. “It’s – human beings are beautiful creatures, but they have strange customs. Castiel has been among you humans the longest of us all.”

“So you ask your dysfunctional angel brother who probably learned all he knows from _my_ dysfunctional brother instead of asking the human who literally lives in your brain?” Adam’s tone doesn’t hold malice, just some confusion and a bit or mirth.

He doesn’t like lying to Adam. So he just goes with the truth. “I was ashamed.”

“Of what?”

“What you would think of me.”

“Dude.” Adam says, walking up to him. “We were stuck together for an eternity. We’ve heard each other scream and moan and the only thing we had was us. Do you really think some little human thing could mess that up?”

Michael swallows.

“You don’t _have_ to tell me.” Adam continues, “But just know you can tell me stuff. Without being ashamed.”

“My emotions have been going out of control recently.” He says evenly. He could never deny Adam any more than Adam could deny him. “And seeing the … romance in these worlds… I just keep wondering.”

“Me too.” Adam says. “We see something and we want it. Even if we don’t completely understand. You’re not alone in that Michael.”

“But I’m not supposed to feel these things.” Michael complains.

“But don’t you prefer this… to what you were before.”

Adam had changed things for him.

In heaven Michael was the one who everyone came to for help. Michael was expected to do it all and hold the fort. Play the part until time for curtain close.

Adam had shown him that he could depend one someone other than himself to get by. That there was someone out there who cared enough about him to help. To ask. To do without being told.

So the only thing left to say is: “Of course I do.”


	13. An Ineffably Profound Bond VII

“I know we haven’t really had much of a chance to talk.” Dean starts, internally wondering if this really is the best time for this. Cass seems in a defensive mood, rather than a talking mood.

“Because you left with the demon you’ve known for all of five seconds.” Cass gripes.

Dean scoffs. He isn’t about to let that just stand. “And you did anything different?” he demands. “You and the angel of all angels disappeared so suddenly you gave me whiplash.”

“You still knew where I was.” Cass defends, “But you left the area completely. You didn’t even try to tell me.”

“How dare you say that to me!?” Dean barks, remembering how he had felt when Cass had _once again_ left him after promising not to. “You left me for your new angel crush like I was a bag of garbage.”

Cass pauses at that. “Dean…”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Now you ‘Dean’ me.”

“My own kind hates me.” Cass says quietly. “This one angel doesn’t. I felt a sense of camaraderie with him. But don’t you think for a second, that I’d ever choose him over you.”

Dean feels petulant when his only reply is, “It felt like you did.”

“Dean.” Cass says, scooting closer, dipping the mattress even further. “When have I ever chosen anything over you?”

That’s true. Cass had given his life to them, his honour, his army, everything. Every time.

“Sorry man.” Dean murmurs. “I’m not trying to be a jackass. I was just…” It takes Dean a moment to figure out what it is that he’s feeling, and when he does, it’s a blow to his pride to even say it out loud.

“I was jealous.”

Cass blinks at him in surprise. “You’re serious.”

“Like a heart attack.” Dean replies.

“But you’re okay now?”

“Are you?” He sees Cass look away. “I saw how you got earlier… anything you need to tell me?”

Silence follows.

It’s only then he realises how nervous Cass looks. It’s as bad as the night they went to the strip club. Dean being up in his personal space probably isn’t doing wonders for him either. So, Dean reclines on the bed, still close to him, but out of sight.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He assures, not wanting him to think that this is an interrogation. “But I know something is bothering you and… you usually talk to me about this stuff.”

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you Dean.” Cass says, running his hands through his hair in distress.

“You know that other you convinced himself that I was in love with you?”

“You mentioned something of the sort.” Castiel mumbles.

“Did you also know that he says he’s always been in love with his Dean.” Dean chooses his words carefully. He doesn’t want to scare Cass off and have him get lost in this world. Logically, they should wait until they’re back home, but when they get home, they have to face Chuck. And Dean keeps waiting and waiting and the world never allows them a moments respite.

Things continued piling up on them until they find a rhythm to talk at all. Dean isn’t about to let that happen again.

“What are you implying.”

“From what I can tell, our timelines were basically the same at the start… when he says he fell in love.”

“So you think I’m in love with you?” Cass’ tone is indiscernible.

“I’m sayin’ I don’t know. So I’m asking you.” Dean explains. “Even if you were in love with me. That… wouldn’t make me treat you differently.”

“I’m not in love with you Dean.” He says evenly. “And for the record, you’ve been treating me different since that place. That’s when you only thought that I was in love with you. What would things be like if I really was?”

Dean tries to say something to cover his bare ass, but the words escape him. It’s a dark day when Cass talks to him like that. With venom in his voice and a sour expression.

“I couldn’t _not_ ask you about this Cass.” He persists, “What if you were really in love with me, I didn’t want you to suffer because you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

“Keep your pity Dean. It’s wasted on me.” he says darkly.

All of a sudden the mattress under him now feels like an uneven stone.

“Move over.” Cass says, in the same neutral tone. “I’m very weary.”

Sucking up his hurt feelings – mostly some rejection with a splash of concern – Dean scoots to the other side of the bed, waiting to see how Cass will position himself before settling into place.

Cass stares at him a moment longer before turning away from Dean, covering himself with the blankets with a sweeping motion.

Licking at his lips, Dean murmurs a quick. “Good night Cass.” He almost doesn’t expect a response.

A sullen “Sleep well Dean.” is all he gets.

Dean feels his body sink further into the bed. He’s actually pretty bushed from world hopping. He can’t remember the last time he shut his eyes that wasn’t in exasperation or when blinking.

He turns onto his stomach, tucking his hands under the pillow and shuts his eyes. Even with his eyes closed, he can sense Cass’ presence next to him. He can feel the rage wafting over.

Never go to bed angry.

That’s what people say.

“Cass.” He pokes his shoulder gently.

“What do you want?” Cass asks in exasperation, still refusing to turn over.

In a burst of what can only be insanity, Dean props himself onto his elbows and leans over onto Cass side, pressing a kiss onto the other man’s jawline.

“For the record, if you did have feelings, we would have worked something out. Not because I pity you. You’re my best friend. Nothing will ever change that.”

…

Castiel feels a shudder roll through him at Dean’s words. He clutches the pillow at his side tighter as Dean’s lips move from his cheek. He can feel Dean’s body heat filling the small space between them.

His anger isn’t at Dean’s insinuation. Castiel is angry at himself. He became slack in reigning in his emotions, and he almost ruined everything.


	14. An Ineffably Profound Bond VIII

Adam beams at his words, laying a hand on his arm to show support. “I like this you better too.”

“I like this you better too.”

Adam frowns. “What do you mean? I haven’t changed.”

A laugh bubbles up. “Of course you have.” Michael insists. “You were a lackadaisical human whose mind was closed to all possibilities.”

“Wow. Way to make me feel special.” Adam quips, his smile slipping.

Michael reaches out, ruffling his hair playfully. It’s a gesture that Adam taught him meant that one is joking.

“Now I think you’re something I aspire to.”

Adam cocks his head. “You’re kidding right?”

“Certainly not.” He reaffirms. “You looked past a feud with your brothers and begged me to assist them. You took the strain off of me by bearing the brunt of that auditory attack. You remain here, stuck with me, despite our freedom.”

“Of course I stayed with you.”

“To be honest with you Adam, I thought that once we made it to the surface, you’d want nothing to do with me.” Michael admits, recalling the crushing weight he had felt, a weight that had squashed even the slightest joy of being on the surface.

He’s thought he’d be alone once more soon enough, that Adam would cast him out.

“I thought you would want me to find a new vessel.”

Adam remains quiet. “And you still let me take control.”

“You’ve already given me years of your life.” Michael says sombrely. “I did not want to take more than I already had. When I tried to ask you, the words never made it out. Did you forget, that you could cast me out. That you still can cast me out at any moment.”

Adam huffs. “No. I never forgot, Michael.” He admits. “I just didn’t care to do it.”

“But why?” Who would want a plague living inside them?

“Because I like who I am when I’m with you.”

…

Dean doesn’t awake to sunshine or Cass’ gently breath across his neck… those things come after.

After he feels the cold wetness slinking up his leg.

He stiffens, reaching for the knife he had placed on the nightstand the night before.

“Cass.” He whispers breathing a sigh of relief as his blue eyes spring open instantly.

Dean holds the knife ready. “Something’s on my leg.”

Cass’ eyes widen and he feels the other man stiffen next to him.

“Pull back the covers for me. I don’t want to risk hacking off my leg.” Dean screws his face up as the thing shifts further upward.

“On three.” He mouths.

“One.”

“Two.”

Cass’ fingers tighten on the sheet. “Three.”

The sheet flies up in the air and Dean gets a good look at the wet object slithering up his leg.

A snake.

A black, scaly, slimy, disgusting snake.

It stares right at him with yellow slitted eyes.

He slams his hand down, hoping to slice enough of it off of his leg that it would die.

It hisses at first sight of the knife and suddenly the snake is no longer there. It’s morphed into Crowley… and now he has a naked man sitting on his knee while another – mostly naked – man is lying beside him.

“Find some pants!” he hisses, yanking his foot back in disgust.

Crowley rolls his and stands. Slowly. Giving them both a long look at the goods.

Cass looks sour overall, and annoyed, but mostly sour.

Dean remembers the confession that flowed from his lips last night. He knows he’d never be able to say such a thing in the daylight.

“I hope Michael comes back and saves us from this nightmare.” Cass growls.

“Hey!” Dean snaps, noting that Crowley is picking up _his_ pants.

Crowley snaps his fingers, bowing exaggeratedly as his clothes are zapped on.

“Well lads, had a nice night did we?” He looks them over with a pout. “Why are your clothes still on? Didn’t you have sex?”

Dean sees Cass ball his hands into fists.

“No. No sex.” Dean assures.

“Not even a little?” he whines.

“Not even a little.” Cass growls.

“You idiots wasted the bed!” he yells, gesturing frantically to the bed.

“Oh, Crowley, you can’t rush these things, they n-”

“Okay.” Dean says cutting him off. He notices that Cass looks stricken by the direction of the conversation. “Let’s stop talking about this. Do you see me talking about whatever you two have going on?”

Aziraphale pulls back as though Dean’s words are scalding water. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Crowley scowls too. “Yeah. Aziraphale and I are best friends. Six thousand years! We – we have – we have the constitution!”

Dean frowns. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“So much.” Crowley returns, sauntering over to Aziraphale who still looks flustered.

“The witch!” he exclaims suddenly.

Dean and Cass share a look of confusion.

“We know a witch I mean.” Aziraphale corrects. “She may be able to help you with your problem. She lives in a nice little cottage. Her name is Anathema and she makes a lovely cup of tea.”

“I prefer coffee.” Cass drones.

“Ugh.” Dean groans. What luck? “I hate witches.”

“Dean, are we really just … going?”

“Give us a minute.” Dean says, waving them out of the room.

“They could be leading us into a trap.” Says Cass.

“A literal witch’s den.” Dean muses.

“Do –”

Cass presses the palms of his hands to his eyes.

“Hey.” Dean calls, inching closer. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

“No.” he mutters bitterly. “You – you just dropped a bomb on me. How could I sleep?”

“It wasn’t really a bomb though.” Dean protests.

“Yes Dean. It was a bomb.” Cass enunciates, glaring at him.

“I – I just thought that you should know. That – that things wouldn’t have changed. I know what it’s like, living with feelings that you don’t get to express. I don’t want that for you Cass.”

“Just – now isn’t the time Dean.”

“Okay.” Dean whispers, vowing that they will _make_ time.

Cass may not have feelings for him, but something is still bothering him and now Dean knows better than to let that kind of hurt fester.


	15. An Ineffably Profound Bond IX

The four of them pile into the Bentley and Dean once again is hanging onto the doors as Crowley careens down the street, taking corners at breakneck speed and nearly killing at least half of London on his way out. All the while Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody is blaring through the speakers.

This car ride is somehow stranger and more danger infused than the first. One glance at Cass tells him that the feeling is mutual.

They disembark in a flurry of arms and legs, overall just eager to _get out._ Meanwhile, Crowley and Aziraphale just exit casually.

Dean feels his heart calm after a minute, it’s enough to notice that they’re now outside a lovely little cottage.

Witch’s den he reminds himself, he’ll have to be extra careful here – him and Cass both. Cass is still not entirely there, Dean guesses that it’s from earlier, having all that pressure dumped on him. Yeah, real smart move Winchester. He should have listened to his gut when it screamed at him about ‘wrong timing.’

But he _always_ listens to his gut and Cass’ feelings always get put on the back burner. That isn’t the kind of man he wants to be – that isn’t the kind of friend he wants to be. Besides, he knows full well what his neglect had led to: weeks to fights, silence, running away and distrust that had begun to fester between them.

“Dean.” Crowley calls, marching down the path way like he would a cat walk. “Cas-ti-ell.” He then crows exaggeratedly.

He shares a quick look with Cass. “We really doing this?”

“What choice do we have?” Cass returns, seeming just as excited about this as he is. “Michael has clearly abandoned us. This is our best shot at finding out what’s been going on and what our options are.”

“Did you try praying to him?” Dean wonders aloud.

“I have.” Cass replies, “He’s ignoring us.”

“Maybe he didn’t hear.” Dean offers. This Michael doesn’t seem the type to just ignore prayers. “Maybe it got lost in transmission. Is that a thing?”

“No.” Cass says sternly. “The prayer would always reach him, the only thing that could be stopping him from hearing is either him dying or something else constantly talking in his ear.”

“Hey, he’s pretty popular, I wouldn’t discount that idea.”

Cass gives him a punitive glance then walks into the yard.

…

Every step feels unsteady, every word measured, carefully calculated; with the aim of molding the conversation into something safe. That’s what it’s come to ‘safe territory.’ By no means does he actually want to spend the rest of his existence talking to Dean like this. He doesn’t want to censor their conversations.

But yesterday was too close, to real.

Stricken.

That’s how he felt hearing those words come out of Dean’s mouth.

First it had been Dean saying that the other Castiel kissed him, then Dean saying that the other Castiel thought that _Dean was in love with him._ Then finally, the crowning jewel, Dean point blank asking him whether or not he’s in love with him then proceeding to say that it would all be okay if he was.

It’s a lie and he knows it. Oh, Dean would try, he’d try and try and it would be Castiel who broke first, unable to let him suffer through something like pretending to have feelings.

That was supposed to be the plan. Keep his feelings under wraps so that he wouldn’t have to panic about Dean’s reaction.

But now Aziraphale is introducing a small tanned lady with Harry Potter glasses and his heart is beating way too fast and somehow the only thing he can think of is the way Dean is looking at him.

Let’s count that as an epic fail.

“Woah!” the lady says upon seeing them, yanking her hand back as though in fright.

“What? Cass grow a tail or something?” Dean ask tactlessly, bending backward to peer over at his rear.

“No.” Anathema breathes, still gazing between them in awe. “Your auras.”

Dean scrounges his face up in distaste. Even though he’s well aware that creatures can detect changes such as in one’s aura, Dean refuses to pay any heed to the on cases. Castiel doubts that this time will be different. Which may actually work in his favour because he’s pretty sure his aura is teetering somewhere between heartbreak and utter humiliation.

“Well we’re not here for a reading lady.” Dean says, stepping fully into the room. “We’re just here to see if you can get us the hell out of here – back to our universe.”

Her lips purse in annoyance and she snorts loudly. “Would you believe I just burnt my grandmother’s prophecy book?”

Aziraphale looks absolutely stricken. “You burnt it!” he shrieks, his composure taking a nose dive. He turns to Crowley frantically. “She burnt it.” He wails.

“Oh angel.” Crowley groans. “What’s done is done. I’m pretty sure I can miracle you any classic you desire.”

“But it’s not the same.” He complains, visibly distraught.

Castiel supposes it makes sense. He has a library after all.

As Crowley takes Aziraphale outside to comfort him, Anathema invites them to sit and promptly returns with two cups of tea.

The first sip is pleasant, not too milky but definitely sweet. He inclines his head to show his approval. Meanwhile, Dean just glares down at his cup.

“It isn’t poisoned.” Anathema says to him, seeming more amused rather than offended.

“Someone needs to be awake to drag Cass outta here.” He quips.

“You are from another universe, right?” she inquires, peering over at them in interest when Dean nods. “And you just want to get home?”

“Basically. Or possibly find our lost archangel…”

“Right.” She says crisply.

Dean’s tongue darts out, which immediately gets his attention. Uh oh, this can’t be good.

“So.” Dean says suavely and for one horrible moment Castiel thinks he’s about to flirt with her. She’s certainly pretty enough to interest Dean. But what happens next is far worse. “Tell me more about our ‘auras.’”

Of course, Castiel should have known his luck wouldn’t allow him even a moment of peace. Of course, after years of ignoring their existence, Dean chooses _now_ to care about auras.


	16. An Ineffably Profound Bond X

“Michael.” Adam says softly. Michael is growing exhausted. The creature following them is relentless. It’s voice ceaseless in his ear. Sometimes, Adam’s mere presence is enough to distract him from the heinous sound. But not right now. He just wants _quiet_.

He holds out a hand and shakes his head. Adam’s face falls but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he rests his arms on Michael’s shoulders, his hands coming up to cover his ears. It’s a nice gesture, but in this incorporeal form, it does little to block out the noise. But Adam’s hands on him feels nice. Familiar.

He just takes all the pressure off even without words.

Michael keeps his attention fully on evading the creature and leading it away from where it wants to be. Michael thought he was close to losing it days ago, but it had circled right back around and began screaming once more.

“I can’t take much more of this.” He whispers, pressing his head into Adam’s chest, hoping that he can somehow swallow him up. Things had gotten to the point where he _had_ to let Adam hold the fort or risk insanity. He still feels guilty about that, but Adam had been so eager to help.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Adam just smiles and continues stroking his neck.

It almost makes the shrieking fade into the background.

Wait.

The screams _are_ becoming mellower with each passing moment. Michael exhales sharply as the sound completely recedes, sagging completely into Adam with sheer relief. “It’s gone.” He breathes, trembling with the exertion.

“Good.” Adam whispers, still taking the care to keep his voice low and even. “You lost him.”

Michael stiffens then. They had been stationary at the time, Michael taking a much needed break. Horror washes over him. “I didn’t lose it.”

“Why would it leave t-” Adam’s eyes go wide with shock, “It found Dean and Castiel!”

…

“Oh you two have a very strong bond. I can tell from the way your auras seem so familiar. It’s very rare that auras actually try gravitating towards one another."

Dean bristles. That isn’t exactly what he wants to hear. Sure, he’s well aware that their profound bond is actually a real thing… but their _auras_ wanting to bump uglies? That’s new and disturbing.

Anathema notices his expression and laughs loudly, her glasses almost falling off of her face completely. “It’s a compliment!” she insists, pushing her glasses back into place.

Dean glances across to Cass who seems less than happy with being here. “Aw dude, you’re all pouty now.”

All that does is make Cass scoot away from him. Dean sighs.

“Enough about the auras.” He says. For some reason they must be a sore spot for Cass. “How are we supposed to get outta here?”

“Hold hands.”

Sounds like she’s serious. “We’re not going to get back by virtue of the power of friendship or clicking our heels together three times.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know that.” She deadpans. “I need to get a read of the energy from your world. I need to hold onto it and craft a pathway through the multiverse. One misstep and you two wind up on a world with three moons and an army of big foots.”

“C’mon buddy.” Dean murmurs, offering his hand.

Cass shakes his head but places his hand in Dean’s so that Cass’ fingers wrap around the side of Dean’s hand, with Dean’s thumb resting on Cass’ knuckles.

There’s a jolt when they join hands with Anathema. Almost like a mini sonic boom.

All of a sudden she yanks her hands away, pitching herself back into her seat. “This is going to be hard.” She warns. “I’ll need time to create the mind map and the spell needed.”

The three of them stare at each other. “That means you need to step outside.”

“Oh.” Cass says, standing with a sheepish look on his face.

“I guess… we’ll head back to the car.” Dean mutters on the way out.

When they reach the door, Dean places a hand on Cass’ chest. “Man, are we good?” Even he hears the quiet desperation in his question.

Sighing, Cass leans against the door, looking drained. Instead of answering, Cass just stares at him, his eyes searching Dean’s face. Dean hopes that he finds whatever it is he’s looking for. He just wants Cass to talk to him again with that look of gloom in his eyes.

Dean messed up by dumping all of his fears on Cass like that. But to be fair, he _did_ think that he was in love with him. How could Dean stand by while his best friend’s heart was breaking? That other Dean and Castiel made things work, even though they just have a few days together. Dean and Cass are _always_ together now. Surely they could find their own rhythm.

And he wants to say that to Cass, but he’s worried that he’ll just see it as pity again.

Is it pity? Dean wonders to himself. After seeing first-hand what they could be like together, he’s no longer disgusted by the implication as he had been in the world with him and Cassie. Now that he thinks about it, it had been _Dean_ not Cass who saw the mailbox and immediately thought of Cass.

What does that say about him?

Other Cass thought that Dean was in love with Cass because he gave up that thing he still doesn’t want to think about. But is there any merit to that statement? If he’s in love with Cass, surely he’d know? Right? Or Cass would know? Someone must know.

Then why is he so willing to do this? Dean knows love. With Cassie and Lisa. But he also knows brotherhood, with Sam and friendship with Lee. Cass is none of those things - not really.

Dean breaks Cass’ gaze. He doesn’t know what the angel will see, when even Dean doesn’t know how he feels. He stares down the path instead, at the beautiful Bentley that he wishes he could steal. She’s still second to Baby of course, but, maybe he’d give her to Sam…

His eyes bug out as he really focuses on the car. It’s shaking, and rocking as though experiencing an earthquake. But everything else around them is still. The glasses are fogged up, though Dean’s pretty sure he knows what’s going on.

Quickly, he looks away, now having no other choice but to look at Cass.

“You see the lovebirds over there?” he asks casually.

Cass’ eyes flit over and he ducks his head quickly, a flush racing up his neck.

“The sexual tension between them _was_ palpable.” Cass says sheepishly.

Dean chuckles. “Wish I didn’t have to see it though.” He mutters.

"So you chose to scar me too?"

And, just like that, they’re back again. All thanks to an angel and a demon going at it in the back of a vintage car.

...

Anathema rips the door open, almost causing Cass to fall over. Dean’s hand shoots out to grab his sleeve but Anathema doesn’t look bothered. In fact she looks frantic and scared.

“I can feel it.” She whispers, as though she’s scared to raise her voice.

“What?” Dean demands instantly.

“It’s gaining on you.”

Dean and Cass share a look. It can only be the thing that Michael was so intent to draw away. Does that mean he’s dead? That the creature killed him and Adam?

“How far?” Dean asks at the same time Cass asks: “What is it?”

“It’s close.” She says, swallowing. “And I haven’t had time to create the linkages in the map yet.”

Clenching his jaw, he looks away. Shit. If Michael really is dead, then this is their only chance to get back.

“It’s – it feels powerful, intent … _divine_.”

That gives them pause.

“Divine?” Cass asks. “As in… holy?”

“Chuck.” Dean breathes in horror. “He’s onto us.”

Shocking doesn't describe it. But Dean doesn't the luxury of shock right now. They need to act now or this world is toast.

“He will destroy this world if he finds us here.”

“You have to send us back.” Dean says urgently.

“But the map!” she protests.

“There’s no time.” Dean insists. “You’ll have to eyeball it.”

“Eyeball it!?” She shrieks. “I’m not threading a needle here!”

“Listen lady, this is the most powerful guy ever. Chuck. God. He’s gonna screw you if he finds us here. The best shot for you and them and this entire world is to get us the hell out of here.”

...

And that’s how they end up on the side of the road, near the bunker.

Dean breathes a sigh of relief.

“Home sweet home.”


	17. Phenomenal Cosmic Powers … Itty Bitty Living Space I

“Okay.” Dean says trying to find his bearings after the jump. “Only a few days should have passed since Chuck nabbed Sam.”

“Why didn’t the spell send up directly to the bunker?” Castiel wonders.

“Maybe it got derailed or something?” He shrugs. “I don’t care. If Chuck was following us the entire time that means that he wasn’t wailing on Sam. This is good. Hopefully we can get to him and back before Chuck finds out that we ditched him.”

Cass nods. “We have to be quick. Who knows how soon he’ll find us again. Worse yet, if he finds Michael, he’ll know that something is wrong.”

“He probably left something to guard Sam too, so we’ll have some fun hacking it apart.”

…

Dean walks down the steps of the bunker slowly. Something feels off. The bunker should feel desolate, it’s been empty for days. Instead, it feels homely – lived in. Dean can smell food cooking, something mellow, but undeniably fresh.

Silently, he grasps the butt of the gun they keep hidden under the map table creeps forward with Cass on his six. He can’t help thinking that this is going to be like some morbid version of Goldilocks. Family of three go out and blonde girl sneaks into their home, eats their food, breaks their chairs and sleeps in their beds. When the family comes home, they murder the intruder and bury the body in the back yard.

The first thing Dean sees is the pot on the stove and the tell-tale green of the kale in it. Next, he sees Sam, his hair tucked behind his ears, completely focused on his laptop.

“Sammy.” He says, lowering his gun and rushing into the room. “You’re okay.”

Though Sam is still seated, Dean drags him into a tight hug, ruffling his hair, just to make sure he’s real.

“How’d you escape Chuck?” he demands, pulling away.

“What are you talking about?” he demands. “Who are you? And why do you look like my brother?

“It’s me.” He says, hurt. “Dean.”

“No.” Sam says. “ _Dean_ has a tattoo on his left hand. Right – here!” Sam slashes at him, the knife whizzing past his skin, drawing blood.

Cass yanks him back and Dean covers the bleeding spot, wiping away the excess blood. He can tell the cut isn’t deep so he isn’t very worried. What he _is_ worried about though, is Sam.

“You’re not a shifter.” Sam observes, wiping his blood off of the knife.

“Well, duh.” Dean deadpans. “You didn’t have to stab me.”

Cass elbows him then. Right. The man he riddled with bullets and stabbed on sight.

Anathema must have gotten something wrong in all the rush. This isn’t their world. Or at least he hopes it isn’t. That would mean that Chuck messed Sam up so much that he can’t even recognise his own family.

There’s one way to test. “You recognise him?” Dean asks, gesturing to Cass.

“No.” Sam says. “Who is he?”

“This is Cass.” He says, “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but we’re from another universe. We were sent here by accident.”

“Assuming you aren’t lying to me… how do we send you back?” Sam questions, “We need to do it before my Dean sees you and wants to keep you.”

“Keep me?” He asks shrilly. “Like a pet?”

“Something like that.” Sam mutters.

“Where is Dean?” Castiel wonders, looking immediately like the fridge – as though Dean would be hiding in there.

“Come on man.” Dean chastises.

Sam chuckles. “He’s obsessed with an artefact that we found on a case. He’s been tinkering with it for months. Dean’s like that – obsessed with lore and reading. Ugh. You two would be an interesting find for him.”

That’s disconcerting.

 _Dean_ is the brainiac in this universe? “Please tell me I still like pie.” He pleads.

“You’re vegan. I have to listen to you bitch all the live-long day about vegetables and ‘the power of a healthy lifestyle.’”

Cass scoffs at that. “In our world, it’s the opposite.”

“You mean –” Sam pulls back, horrified, staring at the pot of kale. “Is that all I eat?”

“Basically.” Dean nods.

…

“Dean!” Sam bellows, knocking loudly on the door. “Open up! I have a surprise.”

“No way!” Comes the reply. “I’m not falling for that again!”

“Aww come on baby bro.” Sam croons.

A shudder runs through him then. “ _Sam_ is the older one?” Dean whispers to Cass. “This place is unbelievable. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. I’d even go back to watching the angel and the demon screw each other.”

“I think it’s amusing.” Cass says with a grin.

“Of course you do.” Dean mutters. “You’re not the one eating _kale!_ ”

They still as the door finally opens. Dean glares at Sam for a second before realising that they’re not alone. When he spots Dean, his eyes widen rapidly with interest.

“This _is_ a surprise.” He whispers in awe.

“Told you so Dean-ie.”

Ugh. If Sam ever tried calling him that he’d get a face full of wet socks. Dean cringes. He’ll need to bleach his eyes and eyes when they get out of this nut house.

…

Castiel fights a smile as this world’s Dean seats Dean on his bed and traces his face with his hands, comparing it to his own. Castiel can tell that they’re exactly the same. The only difference is the hair. Dean’s is longer, almost reaching his shoulders and pulled back in a ‘man-bun.’ Oh, and the tattoo, of course. Castiel can make out the ink on Dean’s hand, but the words are too small to see. Despite the similarities, alternate Dean seems fascinated with the real Dean, in that he can’t take his eyes off of him.

A quick survey of the room tells him that they share _none_ of the same interests. No music and no porn in sight. The bed is neatly made, in light blue linen. The shelves are filled with books, that seem to be organised in alphabetical order. The only alcohol present is a tiny bit of wine that rests next to a strange looking gold object.

Hmm.

This must be the artefact Sam was talking about.

Castiel moves closer to it, entranced.

It’s gold and shaped like an elongated tea-pot, it’s value is evident, despite the object being covered in dirt. Looking closer, he can detect some writing near the base.

Using the sleeve of his trench-coat, he tries to wipe away the dirt to reveal the inscription. He can tell why Dean is so obsessed with it and learning its properties. There’s a certain pull he feels, as though something is leading him towards it.

Castiel was so obsessed with the golden object that he almost dropped it at alternate Dean’s yelp.

“Don’t touch that!” he abandons Dean immediately, moving to snatch the object away from Castiel.

But Castiel feels the object grow warm in his hands, smoke spills from the tip, floating to the ground. This Dean looks nervous – almost scared – while Sam calmly draws his gun.

In a puff of mist a creature slowly unfurls itself from within the artefact. The first thing Castiel sees are the tattoos swirling up and down it’s bodies. Some of the markings look ancient and unreadable… but there’s no doubt what this creature is.

Blue eyes flash open, staring at them.

“Djinn.” Sam hisses, raising his gun.

The djinn reveals it’s face then. Feminine features become apparent as she surveys the room, landing on Dean with an expression of confusion.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

That gives Sam pause. “Dean you know this monster?” his voice is hard and judgemental.

Dean shrinks into himself a bit.

Sam just glares at him. Castiel can make out the throbbing vein on his forehead.

His Dean notices it too and stands, stepping between the brothers. “Chill dude.” He says, but Sam is having none of it.

“I can’t believe this. You betrayed me and let a monster into our home.” He growls.

“It isn’t like that.” Dean tries to reason. “I didn’t know who was in there for days.”

“But you kept silent about it for months.” Sam chastises.

“She’s good.” Dean insists, almost begging Sam to believe him. “I read about her. The other djinn locked her away - enslaving her so that her power can only be used to grant wishes - because she was the only one who _wanted_ to be good.”

“I can’t believe this.” Sam mutters, his eyes whipping to the djinn. “You’ve poisoned my brother, but I will save him. You _will_ die for this, beast.”

The creature blinks, her eyes still glowing an ethereal blue find their way to Castiel’s widening in shock. “My name is Castiel.”


	18. Phenomenal Cosmic Powers … Itty Bitty Living Space II

Sam’s face contorts with disgust.

“I don’t care about your name!” He says, enraged, “Dean, it could have lied to you. Made up some story about being trapped because it knows that this ‘Castiel’ story is readily available in the lore. Don’t you think that finding it was way too easy?”

Dean flushes, ducking his head under the force of Sam’s glare. “I-”

“Shut up.” Sam says gruffly.

“Sam, please. Yes, it was easy…” Dean says shakily. “But I just – you don’t know how I feel.”

“And you don’t know how I feel.” Sam whispers. “My brother has betrayed me for a monster.”

Castiel finds Dean’s eyes. He’s still sitting awkwardly on the bed, trapped between the arguing brothers. It reminds him of Sam and Ruby. Dean’s feelings of utter betrayal. Dean doesn’t seem to be thinking about that though, his eyes are creased with worry.

The creature’s name is Castiel. That can’t be a coincidence. He suspects that Dean’s concern stems from the same place that Castiel’s does.

Sam is hell-bent on destroying the djinn. If he finds out that the stranger who appeared in their home is also named Castiel… who knows how this rash and explosive Sam will react.

…

Sam and Dean argue loudly and viciously, with no regard for the people between them. Namely Dean, who is literally between them. He only hears their argument as background noise. His head is swirling with panic. They need to get out of this world pronto.

The only clear thought in his head is: it’s a good thing he introduced Cass with his nickname. It seems like everything is inverted here. Which means this Sam would react as he would. Violently, rashly, his only real concern, to protect his little brother.

Against anything. Even lost angels. Who just happen to have the same name as the djinn who is 'poisoning his brother.'

Sam still clutches his gun, waving it wildly as they argue. Every time the gun passes in Cass’ vicinity he almost dies. A gunshot would kill him for sure. There’s no Michael. No one to help them.

He hopes that Cass gets what his pinched expression means: she the hell up and under no circumstances, show any recognition to the djinn. Dean hopes and prays that the djinn does the same for Cass.

As strange as this world is, Dean doesn’t know if he has it in him to kill a ‘Sam.’ Any Sam. He’s see the face of his baby brother, though this Sam is the opposite. His skin is weathered in a way his Sam’s isn’t. Sam’s eyes look weary, critical, seeing the worst in everything. His only goal, his only shot at redemption, being to keep his brother safe.

Dean looks between them, yup, everything in this world is inverted.

This Dean has the sparkle in his eyes; the kind that makes him curious and that gives him the hope of getting out and starting a life someday. He takes care of himself because he cares… because he thinks he’ll make it to the age where having healthy habits will pay off…

They’re too much like them… they’re too real for Dean to kill them.

“Sam please.” This Dean’s voice cuts through Sam’s yelling. “I’m your brother. Why can’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you.” Sam bites out. “But I don’t trust it!”

“It’s not an it Sam.” Dean says with finality.

Sam’s head whips around, glaring daggers at the djinn Castiel. He points at her with one finger and grits his teeth. “You aren’t getting away with this.”

He stares at this world’s Dean and shakes his head sadly, “I’m sorry you feel this way Dean, but I’m going to save you anyway.” With that he grabs the nearest stack of books on Dean’s desk and sweeps out of the room.

The four of them who remain all stare at the door in stunned silence.

“Dee.” The djinn says, her features creasing with sympathy.

Dean can only assume that ‘Dee’ means ‘Dean.’ Which, guh. Why do people in this world insist on having crappy nicknames for him?

‘Dee’ sighs, making his way over slowly to pick up the artefact and sets it on his bed. Right next to Dean. Now that he has a closer look, Dean can’t deny that this Castiel is hot.

The djinn peers at him, clearly intrigued. It’ s Cass’ confused head tilt and his soulful blue eyes all compounded on a female face. Dean finds it… disconcerting... and attractive, all at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, turning her attention away from Dean. Her smoky form rippling slightly as her hand reaches out to Dee’s.

“I know you can’t control when you come out of the lamp.” Dee whispers. “Sam’s just…” he breaks off, swallowing whatever he was about to say.

Her eyes cut across to Dean, then back to Castiel who is still standing stock still in the room, possibly hoping that it would keep Sam from noticing him. He looks unnervingly lost. Which is concerning. When they’re in unfamiliar territory, Cass is always the one to keep his cool and think logically. It’s one of the things he and Sam have in common.

Where Dean is likely to lose hope and plunge into despair, they tend to see the brighter side of things.

Thankfully, spending so many years in their presence has taught Dean a thing or two about regenerating one’s spirits.

While Dee and the djinn are engrossed in a staring match, Dean makes his way over to Cass, carefully pressing his knuckles against Cass’ in a display of solidarity.

“You hanging in there?”

Cass gives him a bland look.

“This – these worlds… just knowing that they exist are exhausting.” He sighs.

Dean keeps silent. He knows Cass well enough to know that he hasn’t spilled what’s really bothering him.

Cass stares at him for many moments before turning to face him fully with a growl. “I bet that once again, you’re going to offer me a pity relationship because you’ve found a world – out of the infinite worlds that exist – where you and I are a couple and you’ve decided that I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Cass says sourly, staring directly at Dean.


	19. Phenomenal Cosmic Powers … Itty Bitty Living Space III

“I wasn’t.” Dean says truthfully, which only causes Cass to stare at him, pissed. “I was worried that Sam would try to kill you too.”

Dean hears a noise of pain, and finds the alternate version of Dean staring at him with a sorry expression.

“What was that?” Dean demands.

Dee’s eyes flit to Cass then he flushes. “Nothing.”

Castiel chuckles then, her voice ringing out in clear amusement. “You two are endlessly clueless.”

Dean bristles at that, his hackles rising immediately.

“And you’re any better djinn?” he asks. “This is the same concept as Aladdin, right?” Dean deepens his voice. “Phenomenal cosmic powers … itty bitty living space?”

Again, she laughs loudly. “My lamp?” she chuckles. “If you could see inside, you would not call it ‘itty bitty.’”

Dean chooses to ignore that… mostly because he doesn’t like being laughed at. “So what about you Dean… Dee… Deanie.” He makes a face at the slew of nicknames. “What’s the deal with the djinn.”

“We’re in love.” He says simply, his eyes glazing over, leaving him a dopey mess.

“Yeah. Great.” Dean says, wanting to move this along. The last time a Dean was in love with Cass the real Dean was automatically classed as ‘star struck’ and filed in the chick-flick section. He isn’t looking for a repeat, especially given Cass’ aversion to all matters DeanCas.

He realises that Cass’ vehement disapproval could mean that he _has_ feelings, but doesn’t want Dean to know. Which is reasonable since he’s usually an emotional disaster.

But he doesn’t feel like a disaster this time. He just feels confused.

He doesn’t think he’s in love with Cass because his feelings are different to that with Lisa and Cassie. But then again, things hadn’t worked out well with those two. He left… for Sam and Cass. What does that say for his willingness to put his own confusion aside and try to work something out with Cass. There isn’t any other friend who he’d even consider doing that for. What does that say about him? His feelings? Were all his other relationships just substandard or is what he has with Cass something outside the realm of friendship?

Cass being in love with him isn’t something he wants to be preoccupied with while they’re trapped in bizarro world, so he pushes it aside. Once more. One last time for the tenth time this trip. But what choice does he have? Out on the witch’s porch, he and Cass made some semblance of peace, he doesn’t want to tear it apart at the first sight of trouble.

Dean considers himself a connoisseur of desire. Yet he can’t read heads or tails on Cass’ feelings. Maybe it’s because he was never looking, never considered him like that. But now that his eyes are opened, he’s having a hard time going back to being oblivious. He remembers how sure he was back in the ineffable world – where angels and demons have car-sex – that Cass was in love with him. He saw the evidence that he refused to see all the while and things clicked into place.

At first he doubted it on principle, but now he’s not sure. In fact he’s even inclined to believe it. That Cass is in love with him. And the thing is, he has no idea how to properly handle it… and save them from Sam and save his _Sam_. Dean knows that the time they spend in these other universes don’t translate into the real world, but there’s no underestimating what Chuck might have done to him since he was taken.

“I’m trying to save her.” Dee whispers. His harsh tone cute into Dean’s guilt-trip session. “She doesn’t deserve to be a slave to others.”

“That’s a noble gesture.” Cass says with a nod.

“It’s selfish too.” Dee argues. “I want her to be with me. To touch and kiss and feel.”

“That doesn’t lessen the value of your actions.” Cass replies keeping his voice gentle.

Dean almost pouts. “Why doesn’t he talk to me like that?”

He doesn’t realise that he said it out loud until the djinn whispers a reply. “He wants us to succeed where you two can’t.”

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to figure out a response. The implication is unmistakable. How many times does he have to sing the same song?

“It’s not like that.” At least not on Dean’s part… he’s about forty percent sure.

“Because you don’t let it be.” She replies, still keeping her voice down as Dee and Cass converse.

Can he trust this strange djinn? They should be out of here soon enough anyway. He certainly can’t talk to Cass about this. This is the next best option.

“I’m trying to figure out if he’s really in love with me.” Dean murmurs, “You saw how he reacted when he _thought_ I was going to bring it up. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried to talk to him about it.”

She hums in sympathy. “His feelings are clear.” She pauses to stare at Dean, in that cute, lost puppy way. Just like the real Cass does. “You see it perfectly yet _you_ refuse to acknowledge it.”

“I don’t know for sure.” Dean bites out.

Castiel gives him a knowing look. “Just imaging what you could be if he knew it too. Dean and I were in love long before we ever said a word about it to each other. The only difference between us and you and your Castiel is that we both recognised the other’s feelings.”

…

“Michael?” Adam calls. “Can you sense them yet.”

“No.” he whispers. “And I don’t understand how they could have left that world.”

“This is Dean and Cass we’re talking about.” Adam quips.

Michael sighs. “You are correct. Perhaps we should head back to our earth. There are only two possibilities: they’ve returned without us and Chuck has found them or Chuck found them first, plucked them from this world. Either way, they are unsalvageable.”

“Maybe we can –”

“If he has them.” Michael interjects before Adam has a chance to finish. “I won’t save them.”

Adam looks like he’s about to argue. _Argue_ for the brothers who left him to rot and the angel who left him behind.

“Adam.” Michael says sternly. His tone is enough to scare Adam into silence for the first time since their first meeting. “I said no.”

Not for himself, but for Adam.

He knows that going against his father would be a death sentence for them both. If Adam’s wrath is the price he pays to keep him safe then so be it; it’s a worthy trade in Michael’s eyes. What Adam doesn’t know is that he’s doing this to protect him. Even if Michael can never tell him that in explicit detail, he can’t bear the thought of losing Adam. And he certainly won’t be a part of his death when he had already stolen so much of his life.

The Winchesters can die and their chance of saving the world with them, but Michael can start over. He can save _his_ world.


	20. Phenomenal Cosmic Powers … Itty Bitty Living Space IV

Dean wants to call bullshit. He wants to strangle this femme Castiel too but she’s smoke so that isn’t happening. Plus Dee is pretty protective of her which just freaks him out.

Is that how he is with Cass?

No. No way.

Sam would have said something he’s sure of it. He’d be the obnoxious little brother that Dean depends on him to be. Sam knows him better than he knows himself; he wouldn’t have missed something this huge.

Then there’s the issue of Cass. All Dean wants is a straight answer from him – which is incredibly ironic given the allegations against them.

But bringing it up would be barbaric, especially if Cass _does_ feel something for him. He’d basically be forcing Cass to confess and he doesn’t feel like doing that to his friend.

He’s about eight percent sure of Cass’ feelings. Just thinking about it makes his head spin. He’s going to have to _do_ something. But what? If the djinn is right then Dean is in denial. There’s no denying that his relationship with Cass is different to all the others in his life. But to call it love? Dean isn’t sure.

And until he’s sure he doesn’t want to risk bringing it up.

Instead, he stares at Cass who is staring at the wall. It isn’t his usual probing stare; he looks dazed… lost in some other world. Which, again, is horrible ironic.

“Cass.” He calls. When Cass doesn’t answer Dean contemplates tossing his dirty sock on the angel’s head. His aim is good enough to do it and he’s pretty sure _that_ will get Cass’ attention. But antagonising Cass won’t do him any favours now.

Dee stuck them in this spare room for the night so that he could ‘figure out what to do with them.’

“C-”

“I heard what she said to you.” Cass murmurs cutting Dean off.

Dean sighs, he knows that tone. The silent yet judging tone that tells him just how pissed Cass is with him. Which isn’t even fair because _he_ hadn’t been the one to say it. “I can’t control what some djinn says.” He says defensively.

“I don’t expect you to.” Cass says, finally turning to face him. “But you asked her ‘Why doesn’t he talk to me like that?’”

“It just slipped out Cass.” Dean says glumly. “You know we haven’t been in the best place. I thought things were getting better and you’re talking to this guy and telling him – it doesn’t matter what you were telling him – you were being _nice._ Super nice. Nicer than you’ve been with me. Just don’t pick this apart right now. I’m tired.”

“I … don’t want to psychoanalyse it.” Cass says, slowly. Dean realises that he’s choosing his words carefully. He hates that they’ve come to this. “Do you want to know why I don’t talk to you like that?”

“Uh…” Is this some sort of trick question? “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“It’s because you don’t respond well to weakness.” The way Cass says it strikes a chord within Dean. His tone is defeated yet angry – angry with Dean for being so coarse that he can’t accept simple affection. Not that he doesn’t want to accept it… he _does_. He wants Cass to talk to him like that. With that understanding tone and endless patience.

But years of screwing up had shattered that possibility.

“I know.” Cass murmurs when Dean just splutters. “Dean. I know. But I can’t risk you taking advantage of it… running off and doing something stupid.”

It’s his own fault. If Cass trusted him he wouldn’t feel the need to do this. But Dean knows that Cass is right; that he’d take advantage of his gentleness.

“I – ” Dean swallows. “It’s okay Cass.

…

As Dean flashes him a feeble smile and walks out of the room on unsteady legs Castiel wonders what he’s really doing.

Earlier he’d been so _sure_ that Dean was referring to them. And just when he thought that was over, he stupidly told Dean about his eavesdropping. He should have kept his mouth shut.

But they’ve been aiming for more honesty. Honesty should bring people closer together, not drive them away like it just had with Dean.

Maybe it isn’t working because Castiel is holding back the biggest secret of all: his love for Dean.

…

Dean’s subconscious drags him to his old room. There he finds the djinn sitting alone on his bed.

“How many wishes can you grant?” He wonders leaning against the door. He doesn’t know why he didn’t think of this immediately.

Castiel holds up her hands helplessly. “Three every hundred years, it’s etched into my bindings.”

Breathing out harshly, Dean finds himself clinging to a new hope. “We can wish our way out of here. Maybe even gank Chuck in the process.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Dee interrupts, his voice coming from behind Dean. The fact that he was able to sneak up on him tells him just how much Cass’ revelation has shaken him.

“Castiel can grant a finite number of wishes every hundred years before being sucked into the lamp again.”

“We just need two.” Dean says.

“I used one.” Dee says sheepishly. “By accident.”

“What’d you get?” Dean asks, curious.

“I – I can read any language, spoken and unspoken.”

Dean blinks and shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you so lame?”

Castiel’s eyes crinkle in amusement. Though she doesn’t bother commenting. Her cheeky grin is enough to make Dee flush. They banter, back and forth like an old married couple. Dean would never guess that they’ve only known each other a few measly months or that one of them in an incorporeal ball of smoke.

They just click.

Just as Dean finds himself captivated by them a loud voice jars him.

“Get out of the way!” Sam barks as he shoves into the room.

Even Dee jumps in surprise. His contentment falling away to reveal fear as Sam raises his hand.

His palm glows brightly as he mutters the words to what sounds like a spell.

The light hits Castiel, causing her smoky form to shudder.

Sam just smiles, satisfied with himself. “Now let’s see who you really are.”


	21. Cradle Our Desire I

It’s been almost a full twenty four hours since Michael took control of the situation. Adam is still ignoring him and Michael is content to let him. He thought Adam knew better… had more self preservation than the average Winchester.

Though he’s angry, he’s also bitter too. That Adam wasn’t as excited as Michael to spend time together. Michael ends up wandering around aimlessly. Through the crowded streets, packed with sweaty, loud, obnoxious people. Adam was never like that.

Despite knowing Dean was his true vessel, Michael checked up on _all_ of John Winchester’s off-spring. Sam was a disaster… forever tainted by the demon blood. Dean was scarred beyond his wildest imagination after what he went through and what he did while in hell. Adam was a playful child, open and free but by no means naive. Eventually, he too was scarred, but not detrimentally so.

Michael remembers finding him in his heaven. He watched him for a long while. At first his mind had soured at the thought of settling for anything less than the Michael Sword. But eventually that faded as he observed Adam – for much longer than he should have.

There was something pure about his soul, despite his lineage, despite his duty, Adam managed to remain himself. That was the first moment of doubt for Michael. Doubt at using Adam like this. But there was no time.

Michael hates himself for being so hasty. His hastiness had gotten them both thrown in to the cage. There, he protected Adam as best as he could and found that Adam was just as eager to protect him. Michael was thankful that Lucifer was too preoccupied with Sam to bother them often. Though the horrors he inflicted sent chills racing through Adam’s body.

“Let me take over.” Adam’s voice breaks him out of his reverie. It’s the first time since their fight that Adam has spoken to him directly. His back is still turned away though, preferring to stare at the wall.

“Adam.” Michael says in warning, his tone only causes Adam’s face to close off further. “It may not be safe.”

“I –” Adam lets out a wavering breath. “I just need to feel my own skin Michael. _Without_ you controlling me.”

He wants to argue that he _isn’t_ controlling him _._ At the start of this they both agreed that Michael would remain in control for everyone’s safety.

“No, Michael.” Adam bites out slowly. It’s not like him to be this moody.

Michael stops walking, leaving their body to lounge against a wall while he figures out what’s going on.

“Adam.” He says, stalking closer. “You have my full attention.”

Humans always like to know that they’re being listened to. That they aren’t just talking vainly into the abyss. Michael can relate to that.

Adam turns to face him. “Do I though?” he asks. Hurt taints his words. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s looked so wounded.

“Of course.” Michael’s reply is instant.

“Then why are you making up my mind for me?” He demands. “Presuming things you clearly –”

With a heavy sigh, he breaks off and runs a hand through his hair. Remaining silent, Michael observes him, knowing that he has more to say. Adam clearly doesn’t believe him, but everyone knows actions are stronger than words.

“I’m listening.” Michael says gently.

“I clearly don’t have your attention.” Adam says bitterly. “And I’m not blaming you… I just – I thought you knew me better.”

As Adam begins pacing, Michael cocks his head. “What are you talking about?”

But Adam talks over him, as though he hadn’t heard a word. “You don’t trust me. That’s why you’ve started hiding things from me.” he says in a panic. “What have I done?” he gulps. “What have I done to lose your trust?”

“Nothing.” Michael insists, reaching forward to grip Adam’s arm, lightly holding him in place. “I trust you Adam. More than anything.” Michael looks into his eyes, perturbed at the insecurity he sees swirling in them. “If you want me to tell you what Castiel and I talked about… I will.”

He’s losing Adam. If he’s honest there’s still a chance that Adam can get past it. Undoubtedly, it would change their relationship forever. Adam may be more guarded with him. Maybe he’d want him to have another vessel when they get back. But he can’t stand idly by and lose him. This is a risk… it makes his heart flutter and his stomach feel acid… but it still gives him a chance to remain by Adam’s side.

Just as he opens his mouth, Adam’s hand covers it. He shakes his head sadly. “I don’t want to coerce it out of you.” Adam admits. “I wanted you to trust me.”

Michael remains silent. “You’ve given a lot to me. I can give you this.” Adam would understand his hesitance once he reveals the secret.

Adam takes a breath. “Not like this.” He whispers.

Silence falls but Michael can tell Adam is still thinking. His own mind is whirling a mile a minute. What would Adam think? What would he say if Michael told him about his feelings?

“I was never going to ask you to go back for them.” Adam says at last.

Michael feels his eyes widen. “But-”

“I wasn’t Michael.” Adam says firmly. “I swear. I was going to tell you to get us away. Somewhere he wouldn’t find us.”

Shame wells up in him. “And I got angry with you.”

“You didn’t trust me to look out for us.” Adam supplies. “You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry.” The words feel paltry. But it’s the most he can offer.

Michael blinks as something occurs to him. Maybe it’s not the only thing he can offer. “Do you still want control?”

Adam considers his question for a moment before nodding slowly. “Just for an hour or two. I need a break. A drink.”

“Okay.”

Adam raises a brow. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Michael assures. “It’s my way of saying I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, Mike.” Adam says reaching up to stroke his cheek. It makes Michael’s grace churn. “I’ll say your name if I think we’re in danger.”

…

Adam finds a club almost immediately. It _is_ Los Angeles after all. He settles onto the stool and orders a drink. The barkeeper winks at him and makes sure to stick her posterior out before pouring his drink. Humans, he thinks bitterly.

Michael made up his mind to let Adam have some time without him. But that doesn’t mean he’s not lurking… hovering on the edge of Adam’s consciousness… just in case.

“Well, hello there.” A strong British voice croons. Michael is on edge immediately. The man is tall but defined and wears an immaculate, tailored suit. He doesn’t want to infringe too much so he sticks to the edges, giving Adam a chance to navigate this encounter on his own.

“What brings you to Lux?”

“It’s a bar.” Adam says drily. “I’m here to drink.”

“Hmm.” The man hums, he leans close. So close that a thrill of fear spikes through Michael. What if this man kisses Adam? What if Adam goes along with it?

No. He wouldn’t. Not without talking to Michael first. He’s been always a considerate body-mate. But Michael would have no choice but to say yes if he does ask. Adam deserves to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. Not only would it be unfair of him to demand that Adam remain chaste, but it might make him suspicious.

He feels Adam tense, his breath hitching as the man moves closer.

“Tell me. What to you _truly_ desire?” His tongue lilts on the end of the word.

Adam’s soul ripples. His voice is breathy and dazed. When he speaks next he only manages to utter one word: “Michael…”


	22. Phenomenal Cosmic Powers … Itty Bitty Living Space V

Nothing happens.

Dean blinks in shock as Castiel just remains there, a patch of floating mist. It’s almost anti-climactic really after Sam barged in here, all guns blazing.

The lack of, well anything, seems to Sam in a foul mood. He snarls viciously at the creature and takes a threatening step forward.

That’s when light engulfs the room, momentarily blinding them all.

When the intensity has faded to a bearable level, Dean lowers the arm he was using to shield his eyes. What he sees shocks him to his core, in fact, he almost thinks he’s hallucinating.

It’s Cass… well, Castiel.

But Sam’s spell definitely did something, because Castiel is no longer a she. Gone are the curves, the delicate lips and the locks of flowing hair… in their place though, he sees something very familiar. Unmistakable are Cass’ broad shoulders, strong jawline and short messy hair. It’s galling, how alike they look. If not for the tattoos running up and down Castiel’s body, Dean would mistake him for Cass.

Everything has become silent, save Sam’s heavy breathing, as they all stare at the now male Castiel.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, looking over to Dee. “I just – I never meant to deceive you, Dee – it – you were only attracted to _females_ so I thought –”

Dean feels sick. This mirrors the conversation he and Cass had on the witch’s porch. The pleading on Castiel’s face is heart wrenching, especially when coupled with the confusion and betrayal etched all over Dean’s face.

But in his surprise, Dean forgot to consider one important detail: Castiel now looks like the mirror image of Cass. One look at Sam tells him that he noticed too.

Sam whorls on him, enraged. “You.” he growls, taking a step closer.

It’s strange to see his brother’s face this contorted with hatred. His arms are balled at his sides, his lips pulled back to reveal his teeth. Dean actually feels a thrill of fear.

“I knew it was suspicious how you two just barged in here.” He points his finger threateningly. He turns to Dee then, “Do you see what I’ve been trying to tell you Dean!? This creature knows only deceit.”

When Dee remains silent, Sam pins Dean with a glare. “Why does your friend look just like my brother’s little crush?”

Terror grips him as Sam draws close, eyes wide and brimming with bloodlust. Dean swallows in discomfort; he knows that look… he’s seen it so many times in the mirror… and he knows what follows.

_Death._

Sam is going to kill Cass.

And not the one who’s in an impenetrable lamp and exists as smoke.

Something tears inside him and his fist darts out, hoping to knock Sam out, give them some time to think of a plan. But his panic makes him sloppy – easy to read. Sam bats his hand away and dives backwards. Dean realises what he’s going for a minute too late. As his fingers wrap around the lamp, Castiel’s form flickers as his new owner takes control.

“I wish -”

“NO!” Dee screeches.

“I wish for both Deans to be immobilized.”

For a split second, pain flashes across Castiel’s features, and his eyes are not on Sam when he says. “As you wish.”

Dean feels his lungs constrict as his hands are pinned to his side, his legs draw together sharply, as though my some invisible force, toppling him. From his spot on the ground, Dee is in a similar predicament. His eyes are darting everywhere, trying to scoot closer even as he begs Sam to stop.

“Shut up.” Sam snaps. “When I free you of this creature’s compulsion you’ll be thanking me.”

Sam pauses near Dean and jabs him roughly with the tip of his shoe. “Don’t move.”

Panic claws at Dean’s throat. Everything feels tight. Everything is happening too fast and Dean feels utterly powerless. Sam’s going to kill Cass. The thought has him squirming trying to break the djinn’s unbreakable hold. Cass wouldn’t even have a chance to retaliate… Sam will probably come to him as a friend before stabbing him in the back.

Dean’s breathing quickens as the morbid imprint of Cass’ scorched wings dance across his eyelids. No. No. He can’t allow that to happen.

He musters all his energy and flings himself towards Sam. The motion hurts his ribs like a mother, but it gets the result he desires.

With a shout, Sam topples, losing his hold on the lamp. Determined, he scoots closer, pressing his cheek to the lamp and hoping that the contact will be enough.

Dee’s tear-filled eyes stare back accusingly at him. He knows what Dean is about to do. It’s incredibly selfish. But he can’t let his Cass die.

One look up at Castiel tells him that he knows it too.

Three wishes. One used by accident, one used by Sam, leaving one wish before the djinn is sucked into the lamp for another hundred years.

“I do love you Dean.” Castiel whispers, his voice quivering.

“I’m sorry.” Dean whispers, shutting his eyes. He just needs to block them out and push past this. He really is sorry, but he can’t let his friend die over a misunderstanding. “I wish for Cass and I to be sent to the universe that will fix everything.”

The last thing Dean hears is Sam’s thunderous roar, and a very defeated, “As you wish.”

The concrete floor beneath him disappears, everything disappears and then he’s face down in the mud, something latching on tightly to his ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... it was pretty cruel of him to use that last wish. But Sam was legit about to kill Cass so...
> 
> Oh the things Dean does for his best, platonic friend. *sigh*


	23. Canons Booming in The Night I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the chapter title ;)

Dean scrambles in the mud, trying to gain enough traction to shake whatever’s trying to grab him. Overhead, thunder booms followed by another bright flash of lightening. Rain in beating down on him, making the ground even more slippery and obscuring his vision and drenching his clothes which makes moving a real bitch.

The tugging on his leg keeps up and Dean feels his heart thunder in his ears, as loud as the booming in the skies. Dean glances behind him panting, just as lightening flashes across the sky, illuminating the entire area. The place is a waste land. Nothing but recognisable in sight. Other than mud.

And Cass.

In relief, Dean stops fighting and lets out a relieved breath. Cass made it. It worked. By staying still he gives Cass enough time to grab hold of his leg and pull himself closer. The rain is still pouring over them both, and they’re soaked and dirty and he just screwed up Dee’s chances of a happy life.

All of that is still there, flitting across Dean’s mind. But the headline? Cass is okay.

“Dean!” he cries, his eyes wild and confused. “What happened?”

“I wished us out!” he yells, hoping Cass can hear him past the rain.

“What?” The aghast tone tells him that Cass heard him but is just shocked. If Dean is being honest, he’s pretty shaken too. After all, his actions had real consequences, on a real person. A nice person.

Shame has him dropping his head, pressing it further into the mud. Castiel will never see Dee again. He’ll never have a chance to prove himself to Sam. Or to explain himself to Dee. The gender reveal would shock him, if it didn’t resonate with what his own Cass had said. If he chose a female body, Dean would have been on him like whipped cream on pie. The djinn would be trapped for a hundred years until another master finds him. Dee would be long dead, he wouldn’t even be able to see him, or wish him back to life. He’d just be gone.

A ghost.

The love he found but could never hold onto.

All because of Dean.

Strong hands grip his shoulders and drags him onto his feet. The lightening illuminates Cass’ face. His pinched expression and the worry in his eyes are still visible even under the thick layer of mud coating his face. His hair is a mess to, more brown than black now, Dean can only assume he’s in a similar, if not worse state.

Cass’ lips move and Dean struggles to hear anything over the thunder. But the intention is clear. He wants to get them out of here. He propels Dean forward bodily, almost causing them both to slip, but with slow steps they eventually manage to find a rhythm.

Dean can feel the frigid rain slowly washing the mud away but it’s pointless as they keep slipping, landing face first in the mud.

His wish was to be sent somewhere that could help them fix things.

This wasteland _cannot_ be it. There’s not a dwelling in sight. Not a person, not a plant. Not even an animal. Just them, and the pouring rain.

They walk for who knows how long. The barrenness of the land and the darkness make it hard to keep markers. Dean feels numb, the coldness of the rain and the gusting wind barely make him shiver. Cass’ hand latches onto his shoulder, and he carefully turns Dean to face him.

“Dean we can’t keep walking!” he yells above the noise.

Dean blinks, trying to think of something to say. Another flash of lightening followed by the booming of thunder buys him a few seconds. The lightening illuminates something. It’s just an outline. But it’s _something._

Pointing in the direction of the mound, Dean says. “Let’s go there!”

The walk is long and cold. Dean feels his shoes sinking into the mud with every step, the sludge sticking to his ankles, further weighing him down. Cass isn’t faring much better. His coat is covered, his hair slick. Dean keeps a tight hold on his wrist, scared that the ground will swallow them up or that they’ll lose track of each other in the darkness.

Dean almost cries with relief as the object; a small cave, slowly becomes more defined. Cass can see it too now. Knowing that they’re so close puts a pep in their step and they cover the remaining distance in record time. They pause at the entrance, letting the rain beat down on them, washing off the excess mud.

Dean shudders as he steps into the calm of the cave. The rain is no longer beating down on him. The thunder is muted. His breath shudders out as another flash of lightening streaks across the sky.

“You can let go now.” Cass says gently.

Startled, he drops Cass’ wrist. The angel stares at him, concerned, his eyes are wide and worried, his lips pressed in a thin line.

“What happened, Dean?” More gentleness.

Dean doesn’t deserve to be coddled. Not after what he just did.

“I-” Dean shuts his eyes in shame, unable to look at Cass as he admits this failure. “I used the third wish to get us out of there.”

At Cass sharp intake of breath, his eyes snap open. “But-”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Dean pleads with him, hoping that he’ll understand. “Sam was – he was going to kill you. He had me immobilised. I - I had no choice. We were supposed to be sent to a world that could fix it all. But this – this isn’t it. This _can’t_ be it.” His voice cracks.

Dean runs a hand through his hair, hoping that the water droplets trailing down his face will camouflage his tears. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Dee deserves to cry. He hurt him.

Once more, Cass rests a hand on his shoulder. He looks like he’s about to say something. But he just swallows it and stares at Dean. Then he pulls him to his chest and wraps his arms around him, his chin digging into his shoulder. Dean nuzzles into the embrace and lets his tears fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... things are happening!!! And this *is* the world that will show them what they need to do. I'm excited to share what comes next!!


	24. Canons Booming in the Night II

Castiel keeps Dean cocooned in his arms until he starts shivering from the cold rather than his sobs. Castiel managed to piece together what happened, and why they found themselves in this world. As expected, Dean hates himself for making an impossible choice. If he were in Dean’s shoes he would have done the same thing. But Dean doesn’t need to hear that right now. He needs to express his feelings and Castiel can help him to that by lending his shoulder.

When Dean stills, he gives him a few minutes to catch his breath before he says what both of them are thinking.

“Dean.” He says then, making sure to keep his voice low. “We have to find a way to warm up.”

Dean jerks away from him then and Castiel immediately feels chilled.

“There’s no way to light a fire.”

“And I don’t want to risk going out in that shower again.” Thunder booms again, as though agreeing with him.

Dean nods briskly, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes. He looks uncomfortable which is what Castiel expected after such an emotional breakdown.

“It’s okay.” He assures gently, wanting to say more but unable to find the right words.

Dean’s nod isn’t believable.

Castiel rests a hand on his arm. “Dean, I mean it. It’s okay. We’re okay.’

“Yeah.” He breathes, his eyes still unfocused.

More reassurances are on the tip of his tongue, but a chilly gust of wind makes his teeth chatter.

Suddenly, he remembers something he once saw in a human film.

Licking at his lips, Castiel falters, choking on his next words which causes Dean to look at him curiously.

There’s no way Dean would go for it.

Dean’s breath shudders out which steels his reserve. They’ll both freeze to death unless they do something.

“We need to take off all our clothes.” He says in a rush which only causes Dean to look at him as though he’s gone insane.

“For warmth!” he blurts, not wanting Dean to jump on the ‘Cass is in love with me’ train again.

“Oh.” His voice comes out higher from the shock… or maybe it’s the cold. “That… that could work.”

Dean stares at him then, and the awkwardness consumes them.

"I guess we should… um strip." Dean continues, fumbling with his sodden shirt. Castiel sees the way his breaths come faster now, creating a cloud of condensation due to the coldness.

Castiel sighs as Dean still struggles with his shirt. "Dean." He says, immediately causing his head to jerk up. "I've seen you naked. You've seen me naked."

That incident with the bees is something he's sure Dean hadn't forgotten. In retrospect, Castiel had been mortified. Dean had been speechless for many moments before croaking out a string of expletives and demanding that he put on some clothes.

This time he is in his right mind… he hopes. but Dean is still freaking out. He can only assume it's due to the fact that  _ he  _ will naked as well. Their bodies would be pressed together throughout the night.

Over the years he's gotten glimpses of Dean in various states of undress. Given their living situation, it was bound to happen.

But those times were accidents. Now, they're going to deliberately remove their clothing and press their naked flesh together.

The thought makes Castiel feel uncomfortable as well.

But it must be done.

Usually, Dean has no qualms about his nakedness. Very often he parades around the bunker in various states of undress, much to the chagrin of Sam. He sleeps with many women and Castiel knows that sex is not done with clothes on.

Could it be that Dean is nervous because of him? Because he sees him differently… because he likes him?

_ Idiot! _ Castiel chastises. He can't afford these thoughts. He needs to remain focused and objective to protect Dean - and his feelings. Rejection right now would utterly destroy him.

Maybe Dean just needs some encouragement… to not be the only one taking his clothes off. That makes more sense. Humans like doing things in groups… for validation.

Castiel lets his trench coat drop with a loud thud. Dean's eyes go wide.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Dean chatters.

"Taking off my -" Castiel breaks off in surprise. He keeps looking, just to make sure his eyes aren't deceiving him.

Latching onto Dean's arm he says urgently, "There's a light at the end of the tunnel."

Ripping away from him, Dean rolls his eyes. "Cut the Hallmark crap." He grumbles.

Castiel scoffs. Of course Dean would think that.

"No!" Castiel snaps, grabbing Dean's chin and bodily turning his head to the interior of the cave.

Way down in the distance, there's the faintest of glows… the first sign of life since entering this wretched place.

Dean's sharp intake of breath reassures him that he isn't crazy.

Enthusiasm makes its way into Dean's eyes once more. His skin stretches under Castiel's fingers, which are still on his jaw.

Dropping his hands, he watches as Dean's hopeful expression seems to brighten the room even more. "This is it Cass." His voice is awed. "This  _ has  _ to be it."

That's right, the world that would show them how to defeat Chuck. Dean had wished them here and despite the mud and the thunder… Castiel can feel in his bones that this world is special.

"I guess we won't need to get naked." Castiel quips, his own mood having been brightened by Dean's.

For a long minute, Dean just stares at him. Then he licks his lips and grins. "Not yet."


	25. Cradle Desire II

Adam moves back immediately to let Michael take control. And instantly he sees it. How bright the man across from him is.

Not a man, he realises.  _ Lucifer _ .

The light bringer.

"Well hallo there." He hums. Michael bristles as he draws closer. Lucifer has clearly noticed the switch from Adam to him. His eyes are predatory… tactical.

Michael smoothens his expression.

"Leave us." He says firmly. "We don't want any conflict."

Lucifer smirks then, but doesn't move away. "Well that's a shame. Seems like all you've got in there  _ is _ conflict."

Michael cocks his head in confusion. He and Adam worked out their issues. They talked and cleared up the misunderstanding between them.

He doesn't want to leave the forefront of this vessel to confer with Adam. As much as he's anxious to make sure that all is well, he doesn't want to lower his guard.

This is still Lucifer.

While he isn't attacking, he's still not to be trifled with.

"We will be fine. Just passing through." Michael says casually but firmly.

"I can tell." He drawls. "My brother would be sticking me with a spear on sight. Plus…" He raises his glass and winks at Michael. "He wouldn't be caught dead fraternising with a human. Much less one who desires him."

It shouldn't be possible, but Michael feels a chill run down his spine. "That's not true." He chokes out, trying not to show fear.

Michael's mind races. That's not possible. Adam doesn't desire him. Not in the way Michael wants in any case. He must be picking up on his own desire for Adam.

Adam has drifted far back into his mind, it's unlikely that he's registering this conversation. Yet fear renders him almost speechless.

The thought of this secret - his only secret from Adam - coming out makes him sick. 

"Oh. My dear! You didn't know." The man croons. All of a sudden Michael just wants to smite him.

"He's not." Michael spits bitterly. The hope that statement brought him is pathetic. Dangerous.

He needs to focus on protecting Adam, not get carried away by pathetic fantasies.

Lucifer opens his mouth. A clearly snarly quip on the tip of his tongue. But Michael is done. Unable to stand anymore lies he stands, pushing away from the table and the alternate version of his brother and marching straight out of the bar.

Ducking into a side alley, Michael gives himself a moment to crumble. He lets himself sag against the dank wall and squeezes his eyes shut trying to push back his disappointment.

By now he should know better but it seems that hope is both enticing and deadly. He hopes to all that is good, that Adam hadn't looked in on their discourse and figured out his feelings.

Slowly, he pulls himself out of his despair to frown. Adam should have tried reaching out to him by now. Or at least ventured closer to the surface of his mind.

He's hiding, Michael realises.

A chill shoots through him and he feels like the world is narrowing in as the realisation hits him: Adam knows.

…

It takes Michael a long minute to gather himself before he slips into his mind.

The scenery that they've grown accustomed to somehow seems darker. Foreboding.

What will Adam think?

He's an understanding human but this is a deep and personal secret. Adam trusts him, that much is obvious. But will he be able to stand the thought of his love?

When this is over, maybe Adam would like to find love. With someone he can touch.  _ Hold _ . With someone who can feel things as deeply as he can.

The churning of his grace echoes his shudder.

"Adam?" He calls, searching for his presence.

It takes a moment, but he appears. Relief almost blinds him to the fact that his shoulders are hunched and his eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry." He breathes, feeling as though he's using those words so often now.

Adam makes no move to reply.

Michael's unease grows.

"I'm sorry." He repeats helplessly. "Please-"

" _ You're _ sorry?" Adam croaks.

When he looks up, his eyes blaze with anger and hurt. 

He hates him. 

The thought almost brings Michael to his knees.

"Adam." He says quickly. "We can move past this. It - it doesn't have to change things between us. Please."

Silence falls. It almost deafens him.

Then Adam laughs. A slow, sickly sound, devoid of all mirth. "You think we can just -  _ Forget _ about my feelings?" He demands.

"Your feelings?" Michael is perplexed.

Adam's eyes blaze with rage. " _ My _ feelings!" He snaps. "The ones that man shoved in our face with his 'what do you desire' thing."

It's like a switch has been flipped in Michael's mind. He can scarcely believe it, but neither can he deny it.

There's a chance… a chance that Adam might love him back.

"You desire me?"

"Yes." Adam breathes sounding defeated. The admission makes his shoulders sag once more. "I desire you. I love you."

"I love you too!" Michael almost screams the words, unwilling to let Adam think otherwise for a second longer.

"This isn't that kind of-"

With a growl Michael grips his shoulders and stares into his eyes. With absolute sincerity he utters the words: "I'm in love with you Adam."

Adam splutters with shock.

"I've  _ always _ been in love with you." Michael ploughs on, enjoying the feeling of the weight being lifted off his chest with every word. "That was my secret. The one I talked to Castiel about. Never in a thousand years would I have fathomed that you felt the same. That you've clearly felt this way for some time. Adam-"

Michael's next words are interrupted by Adam's scream. "The noise!" He shrieks. "It's back. Michael it's right on top of us!"

Immediately Michael surfaces, taking control of the vessel and removing the strain from Adam. The shrieking returns, full force, making him falter.

Adam was right. It's so close now.

Pushing past the pain, he readies himself for yet another jump. But then it hears it.

The familiar scream… it's not that familiar.

Now that it's so close, he can pick out the undertones that he had missed before.

This isn't God. This isn't his father.

It takes him a second to place the cries, but it's now clear who they're dealing with.

Who they forgot.

Who they always forgot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... Their feelings are finally out in the open.
> 
> I wonder who is following them... 00


	26. Canons Booming In The Night III

The walls of the caves seem to perpetuate the cold that still clings to their skin. The only bit of warmth around is Dean, whose hand rests securely on his wrist to keep them tethered.

It makes sense for them to stay in contact. The passageway is long, narrow and pitch black. Castiel feels like they've been walking for hours, despite knowing that it's actually been a few minutes.

The light is still faint at best. But it is steady, meaning that its coming from a constant source.

Vaguely, he wonders whether someone still lives here, in this barren, seemingly cursed world. That person could hold the key to it all.

To getting back home, to defeating Chuck.

Though he tries to stop it, hope swells in his chest once more. It seems that no amount of trampling can stop it. After all, Dean wished for this. It must be real.

It has to be.

He can't imagine being trapped here for the rest of his lives. This is no place to live, and certainly, no place to die.

So he savours the warmth of Dean's wrist as he pulls him closer to their only hope. They move in slow, steady steps in the pitch black. The sound of their breaths almost drowned out by the storm outside.

Castiel sucks a sharp breath. "Dean, it's getting brighter." His voice echoes down the cavern.

"You're right." Dean whispers, clearly surprised.

Grip tightening on Castiel's wrist, they continue their slow crawl.

The light gets brighter faster.

And faster.

They must be mere feet from its source.

Dean seems to drag him forward with a new fervour, in a mad rush that has him tripping over his feet and the rocks.

Abruptly, Dean stops in his tracks. They're at a junction. To the right, the light is brighter than ever but to the left is another tunnel of pitch black.

At last, he can see Dean's features. The strain is ever present, but Castiel can now see the faint hope that lurks behind it. Dean motions for them to stay put.

Castiel follows Dean's lead and presses himself back against the wall as Dean leans forward slightly to peer around the corner.

"It's empty." His lips are so close to Castiel's. The light and the shadows make Dean's eyes look greener than usual.

Castiel finds himself thinking back to the way Dean looked at him when he said, 'not yet.' The lightning had been even brighter than this dim light so he was able to see every nuance of Dean's expression with clarity. He's usually so good at figuring out Dean's expressions specifically… yet, in that moment, he had no idea what to make of it.

Dean's hand is still firmly on his wrist, though there is no need for it to be anymore. Castiel can't find himself complaining, even though a small bitter part of him wishes that Dean's fingers had found purchase just two or three inches lower.

The room is dank and cluttered. A single candle burns brightly, chasing away the darkness. Castiel can make out a tiny window, hardly any bigger than his face. It's shut, but he can see the lightning and the raindrops that beat down incessantly.

The room is littered with piles upon piles of books. All of them look like they've seen better days. In the corner rests a mattress, and a ratty blanket that probably does nothing to help the chill.

Guiding them over to the candle, Dean then releases his wrist and lifts his hands up to the flame. He shudders as the heat warms him, shuffling just a tiny bit closer.

His sleeves are way too close to the licking flame, but Dean doesn't seem to care.

Castiel finds himself drawn to the flame too, his hands hovering tantalisingly close to Dean's.

"Whoever lives here will be back." Dean says lowly.

"Back! Back! Backs against the wall!"

Simultaneously, they both whorl, almost toppling the candle. A hand shoots out to right it, only letting a few drops of wax spill and harden on a nearby book.

"Burn it all down, why don't'cha?" The voice drawls.

Castiel stiffens as he registers the low baritone mumble…  _ his _ voice.

Dean makes a choked noise as he considers the bedraggled figure before him. His clothes are in tatters, his skin sunken and pale from lack of sunlight. Without the trench coat hanging off his shoulders he would be utterly unrecognisable.

"Cass?" Dean breathes. "What-"

Castiel cackles loudly, his laughter drowning out Dean's surprise.

"Oh Dean." He practically swoons. "Your eyes are greener than ever my dear."

"Um." Dean stutters in shock. "Y-you too man."

Castiel practically face palms as his friend's awkwardness. He never could take a heartfelt compliment.

"Why do you live in this cave?" Castiel asks his doppelganger as Dean catches himself.

The other angel scowls at him and gestures at the sky. "Because they're always taunting me. The canons."

"The cannons?" Dean squeaks.

"Wretched things. They mock me knowing that I can do nothing to stop this now. Now that you're dead." The other angel gives Dean a woeful look which sends chills down Castiel's spine.

The way he looks at Dean is just… Wrong. Like he's sizing him up for dinner, or worse, a body bag. The crazed look in his doppelganger's eye is unmistakable. Its insanity and loneliness mixed with a desperation that Castiel can scarcely fathom. One that makes him wonder just how long this version of himself has been alone.

Castiel blinks and the alternate version of himself is grabbing Dean's collar and dragging him closer.

"Or maybe this is my second chance." He hisses before slamming his lips into Dean's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 more chapters to go!!


	27. Canons Booming In The Night IV

Castiel's lips slam into his with bruising force. His eyes flutter shut and his tongue enters Dean's mouth. Shock and disappointment war within him. Shock that Cass is kissing him. Disappointment that it's not  his Cass.

Which is just a whole bag of worms that he doesn't dare open. But suddenly those lips are being ripped away from him. Cass stares at his doppelganger in horror while Castiel just gives him a pleased, yet creepy smile.

“Jealous of yourself?” Castiel whispers, somehow managing to sound both haughty and dazed at the same time.

Cass scoffs but doesn’t move from between them, “Don’t touch him.”

The ferocity in Cass’ voice stills even Dean. He’s never heard his friend sound quite so ominous, even when threatening to drop him back into hell. His tone is low and measured but his eyes are fiery with rage.

Castiel seems to sense it too, and despite how crazy he comes off, it seems he does have a smidge of common sense. “Fine. Fine.” Backing away slowly he shakes his head. “Hands of the merchandise. I get it.”

“What happened here, man?” Dean wonders aloud, breaking the tension between the two angels.

“The apocalypse.” He cackles flopping onto his mattress.

“Why is it raining so much?”

“Thought the world would go up in smoke eh?”

“Well… kinda.” Dean says trying to get the feel of Castiel’s chapped lips out of his mind.

“Well it was supposed to. Before we broke it.” Castiel says testily.

“Broke it?” Cass demands. “How did we break it?”

That’s right. This is supposed to be the world where they find out how to fix everything. Dean can’t believe he almost forgot that. At least Cass is here to keep him on track. Between trapping djinn Castiel in his lap forever and his ‘feelings’ Dean’s head has been in a mess. They’re in the final leg. He needs to focus now, more than ever. But Cass…

“By making it canon of course.” Castiel says, looking between them as though they’re the stupidest bastards to ever walk the earth.

“A… cannon?” Dean repeats, rubbing his chin. He supposes that a cannon  could blow Chuck away. Maybe there’s some sort of magical cannon ball that would break him in two.

“Dean?” Cass asks in confusion.

“I don’t know dude,” He shrugs. “I mean, it could work. With the right ball maybe-”

“No!” Castiel’s outburst makes them both jump. “No, no you idiots. You make it go canon and boom! Chuck is toast!”

“So we need to make a cannon?” Dean reiterates.

The gears turn in Castiel’s head. “No Dean.”

Then he begins to shake, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his head between then. He shares a look of concern with Cass. This Castiel is clearly losing it - hell, had probably lost it some time ago by the looks of it. It makes Dean unbearably sad to see his friend in such a state. But he knows that they need him to tell them exactly how to vanquish Chuck.

Without that information everything they’ve been through over the last few days would be for naught. Sam would be suffering for nothing and Chuck would probably kill them all as soon as he catches up to Michael, wherever he may be.

Dean takes an edging step closer. “Hey buddy, I know this must be hard. But I need you to focus. I need you to tell me exactly what you did to get rid of Chuck.”

Castiel sniffles, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs to hide his face. Dean can see the ware and tear on his hands. The dirt that lingers beneath his chipped nails. The callouses on his fingertips and knuckles. This Castiel has been through horrors… and he’s been alone for so long. Words are probably hard for him. To an extent, Dean understands what that’s like.

After his mom died, he didn’t speak for almost a year. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Or even because he was traumatised. It was simply because he had  too much to say and no idea how to  actually say it.

Dean rests his hand on Castiel’s knee and squeezes gently. “Take your time. I know this is hard for you. Just - just go slowly okay. I’ll try my best to understand.”

“Free will, Dean. He hates it. And the canon goes boom.” Lightning flashes then, followed by an almost deafening rumbling of thunder. Castiel remains as he is, not bothering to raise his head.

“And this cannon?” Dean wonders. “How does it work?”

“Ignite it with the fire that burns within you Dean.” Castiel glances up Dean, holding his gaze. “I know it’s there. I know how brightly it burns, especially now. I was too late to save you. But - but - just make it go boom.”

“How?” Dean repeats. “How can we build the cannon?”

“It’s already built.” He says shakily. “Just find the spark. The spark and make it go boom. Canons booming in the night.”

“Dean.” Cass’ insistent voice pulls his attention away. “This is pointless. He isn’t coherent enough to tell us anything of use.”

“But he knows something.” Dean whispers, not wanting Castiel to hear them and pull back even more. “I just need to- to help him say it.”

“And how will you do that?” Cass gives Castiel a withering look. “He’s falling apart Dean.”

“I know.” He breathes. “I know. But this has to be it Cass. It  has to. Or else I - I screwed up Dee’s life for nothing.”

With a much softer expression, Castiel smiles at him. “Okay. Let’s find out what he means by ‘cannons booming in the night.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone noticed the little spelling discrepancy between two words yet? :D Trust me, the distinction is important!


	28. The Exultant Sound of a Canon Booming in the Night I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out watching 15x18 was the motivation I needed to finally finish this chapter TT

The bright light assaults Dean’s corneas and he spends a few moments blinking rapidly, trying to get his eyes to accommodate. He feels Cass’ presence next to him before he sees his figure. And then past him… another figure. A familiar figure with shaggy hair who’s tied to a chair and bleeding profusely.

“Sammy!” He bursts forward making quick work of the knots binding Sam. It looks like they’re in some kind of casino. Vegas definitely. But it’s empty. All the more reason to get a move on. Who knows where Chuck is… how far he is behind them.

“Dean.” His brother whispers, clearly dazed from the trauma and blood loss. Dean grits his teeth at the sight.

“Quickly.” Michael snaps, appearing out of nowhere again and instantly breaking the ropes. “We need to flee.”

Dean frowns. Dickwad bailed and now he’s back? That doesn’t seem right.

“Why?” He narrows his eyes suspiciously. 

“The thing that’s following us it isn’t Chu-”

Michael vanishes.

A loud sigh comes from across the room. Chuck is perched near the bar sipping one of those girly mixed drinks.

“Guys.” He says exasperated.

His voice causes Sam to tense while Dean just glares defiantly. Without Michael they’re screwed. But maybe… maybe he can distract Chuck enough that Cass can get Sam out of here.

“You guys are hard people to track down.” Chuck muses, still casually sipping at his drink. Like he even gets drunk, but Dean keeps his mouth shut, letting Chuck monologue and using that time to think of a plan.

“Then I figured I already had good enough bait. You wouldn’t leave  _ Sammy _ here.” That catches Dean’s attentions. “So I’ve just been waiting around for you.”

Dean’s mind whorls as he considers Michael’s departing words

_ It wasn’t Chuck following them. _

But if it wasn’t him… then who was it?

Amara? Michael could easily mistake her for Chuck since their power level must be similar. If it  _ is _ her, then they might still have a fighting chance. But if it isn’t....

“You’ve always been a rebel Dean.” He muses. “You even managed to corrupt my Castiel in almost every universe. But that was always the plan. A little twist to keep the readers hungry for more. I refused to let you guys screw though. It just didn’t fit. You know what  _ really _ pisses me off?”

Pressing his lips together, Dean remains silent, eyeing Cass to make sure Chuck isn’t hurting him. The angel looks on edge and kind of like a rag doll with soaked clothes, but otherwise fine.

With a scoff Chuck flicks his wrist and the three of them fly into the floor, almost like gravity times a thousand. There’s no way to resist it.

“You aren’t even listening.” He chastises, but it only sounds petulant. “The worst thing is that you two manages to corrupt Michael.  _ Michael.” _

He sighs heavily. “That’s where I draw the line.” He regards them sternly. “Now I could just snap by fingers and boom! No more Sam or Dean or Castiel. But I’d like to end things right after all this trouble.”

He continues but Dean’s world narrows.

_ Boom! _

That Castiel kissed Dean before blathering on and on about cannons. But what if it hadn’t been a physical cannon? But rather an action that would ignite the spark that would eventually decimate Chuck?

Cass is right by his side. As he’s always been. Would it even work?

Their final moments are upon them. They’ve played their final card and Chuck is announcing curtain call. But Dean still has a few seconds left. A few seconds to right the only wrong he’s ever truly regretted.

He turns to Cass a teary smile on his face, he can see the angel’s mind trying to churn out a solution. He stayed by their side through thick and thin and now there would be no more. Throughout his life, Dean managed to weasel his way out of many jams, but an apocalypse year in and year out has taken its toll. Dean is tired. He knows he should be following Cass’ lead. To find a way out. Glancing to his other side, he can see the look of determination on Sam’s face. If anyone deserves to make it out alive, it would be Sam. He’s the only one of them who has a chance at normal. But Chuck won’t let that happen.

It’s blindingly obvious that this is it for them. There’s no one to save them so they have to save themselves.

So Dean will do the only thing he can do. His one final move in the famous final scene of Chuck’s shitty story. Something that Chuck believed completely unfathomable- something that doesn’t  _ fit _ ; especially in regards to a character who should have been written out years ago. Something, that, throughout all the universes, he’d never seen be successful – not once. Almost as though Chuck had doomed it from the start.

Dean is about to answer a question that Cass should have never even needed to ask.

And maybe – maybe – one last ditch effort in a world gone mad is enough to turn the tides just enough so they might hear what ‘the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night’ really means.

“Let’s make it go boom.” He whispers, forcibly throwing his body to the side despite the insurmountable force pinning him down.

His lips are right next to Cass’ and Dean just stares at him for a moment, in awe. He knows they had a moment back in the cave, but this is different. Everything feels raw, pure and undeniable now.

“I love you.” Cass’ voice rings like a bell, silencing even Chuck. “Loving you makes me happy, Dean.”

So Dean presses his lips to Cass’ showing him just how much he returns the sentiment, even though he can’t say it yet.

At first all is silent.

Terror rips through Dean, that it didn’t work, that they failed.

But then the earth shudders and groans before cracking open in a sound so loud that Dean screams as it hits his ear drums.

Chuck pales, taking a swift step back as the ground begins to bubble black.

“What have you done?!” He shrieks.

Dean just cackles in the face of Chuck’s fear.

This is it.  _ This _ is what the exultant sound of a canon booming in the night sounds like. It sounds like victory. But when he turns to grin at Cass, all he can see is devastation.

“Cass?” His voice is thin and choked.

“Dean - I -” His friend swallows harshly. “I’m sorry I never told you. Dean I never meant to-”

“Hello Castiel.” A figure emerges from the tar like substance, molding itself into a human form and smiles sinisterly. “I’ve been chasing you since I first sensed your happiness, that little burst of joy was like a beacon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd honestly love to hear what you guys thought of the new episode! I feel like I'm about to explode!!!


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